Fang
by ZidaneFanGurl
Summary: Amilia Graves finds herself thrown into her father's mysterious past life, tangled in his enemies' grasp. In her enthralling adventure, Amilia meets a tame beast, Tyreth, who has a clear infatuation for the young woman.
1. Chapter I:

She reached the town gate knowing very well that he was not there... Sluggishly she pounded on the door that was immediately brought back. The dark haired girl entered and glanced around quickly. This particular environment seemed inviting and friendly. The guard on the girl instantly fell and she walked on free of its power.

The tavern she entered was a small pub as well. A sly smile crossed her lips as she quickly made her way to the farthest table to the door. It was also the closest to a small fireplace. The girl sat and glanced around the pub at the multitude of drunks. Her gaze landed on the dark embers of the fire. Her blue eyes sparked and a strange glow came to them; almost as though they ,too, were on fire.

The tavern was a two story wood building. The lower half consisted of the pub. There were a few round tables, each topped with a lit candled lantern. The bar was rounded by benches and spittoons. The upper portion was the inn. Each room had two small cots separated by a drawer or desk. A few of the rooms had windows and actual beds. Each room had bed pans, and extra blankets... The owner of the tavern was a portly man with a red beard. His eyes were kind and he seemed rather jolly to most, but when a fight arouse he was stern and unfaltering in ideal punishment.

The girl fought back the few memories of her past that threatened to shroud her mind. She stood pushing the stool back. It fell with a clatter, silencing the drunks and drawing attention to the solitary girl. The bartender instantly left his post and approached the girl. She trembled, beads of sweat dripping from her chin.

"Madam...may I assist you?" the man asked taking her arm.

"One room please...no preferences..." the girl answered quickly without averting her attention from the candle's slight flicker.

A money pouch was exchanged for a gold key. The girl was escorted up the stairs and into a room. Quickly, without a word, she shut the door and locked it.

A single rotted tree sat on the hill before the town. In this tree stirred a being, Young Tyreth of Austria. He opened his eyes and stared at the town's borders. It was, indeed, a small town. Not worth looting or pillaging. The boy did not want to hurt anyone particularly...but his master had plans. And these plans, of course, had to be obeyed.

Tyreth, who had been sitting on the top branch, jumped down landing with a solid thud. He sighed and turned once more towards the sun as it set. The full harvest moon was rising and so was the power within Tyreth. Lazily he leaned against the graying tree and bit at a hangnail that had been driving him crazy lately. He wasn't really in any rush... He didn't have his master's lust for blood. Besides it wasn't night yet. He still had at least 30 minutes before he was at full strength.

The soul, of which Tyreth was to take, was young Amilia Graves. Her fate had been sealed long before her birth when her father, Nathaniel Graves, had sealed the "Master of Darkness". Now Tyreth was sent to find the child and either persuade her into joining the "Worshippers of Chaos" or kill her. He could easily force her into servitude but that was as unappealing to him as having to murder her. She had been completely innocent... at least that was all that he knew.

Another sigh escaped the boy as night covered the sky. He pushed off of the tree and began the descent towards the tiny town.

The girl sat on the single bed staring out the window. The outside world was black and she was unable to see anything but the moon. A crow flew by the window scaring the girl. She had not realized she was frightened until the remnants of a shriek echoed off the window.

Oddly no one had attempted entrance to the room in hopes of saving the girl. She had screamed, yet no one answered. Unease fell about the odd silence as realization crept into the girl's mind. HE had stopped time to find her. Surely that was it...that or the world truly was an evil place altogether where good men turn bitter with a few pints. None the less something was amiss.

Slowly the girl opened the window and stuck her head out looking back and forth into the night. It was impossible to see anything that was not directly below her. She could, of course, make out shadows of things from the help of the large moon. HE was not out there...but a strange stillness lay about.

A wind rose and brushed the brunette locks out of the girl's face. She glanced around once more before pulling herself back into the tiny room and shutting the window. She sat once more on the bed for a short moment before a thirst bit at the girl's throat. She stood and walked to the door picking up the lacey money bag as she went. Within it was the small golden key to her room.

The young girl reached out taking the glass door handle in her elegant hand. Slowly the knob turned and she pulled the door open. Horror streaked across her fair face as the blood within her froze.

"Hello, Amilia..."

Amilia let out a fearful shriek that was instantly cut short.

Tyreth had entered the tavern as any ordinary man. He had not found it particularly hard to find Amilia. She had a certain smell about her that he was very familiar with.

So the boy entered the tavern and walked up the stairs naturally. There he stood patiently waiting for the girl to open the door. He had not gone through the window as was accustomed. He had left it as an escape for the girl yet she had not chosen to leave.

Again there he stood. He was a great deal taller than the girl and more fair. His eyes were blood red and what had seemed like seconds his skin had produced a dark aura. Surprisingly, other than his frightening mask, he was very easy on the eyes. His jet black hair hung down over his eyes and curled slightly at his ears. His build was very muscular but most of his type came that was naturally.

Upon Amilia's screaming the man had impulsively cupped his hands over her mouth. Now the girl stood trembling with wide teary eyes. Tyreth exhaled slowly and took a step back releasing the girl.

"Please do not do that again," he said quietly.

He had the natural vampiric accent but his voice was full and clear none the less. In his state of fear his teeth had grown causing his jaw to jut out. The large incisors had receded and he was once again handsome.

Amilia looked him up and down before allowing a small escape of breath. He was not much older than her in appearance and he seemed quite intelligent. He was fretful, this she could tell, which gave her an advantage. Alas, if only she could calm her own nerves.

"What do you want with me?" the girl found herself asking although she was quite sure she knew.

The vampire looked down for a moment to stare at his black chain-buckled boots. He hesitated before once again glancing upon the beautiful girl. In his heart he knew she was strong willed and would never oblige. He had not expected the enemy to his people to be attractive as well. It pained him...

"My master asks something of you..." Tyreth answered

Amilia now noticed his eyes...they were no longer red but light and pale blue. He was a mysterious and beautiful beast, indeed. The girl found herself quite enticed by his charm. Naturally, she assumed he was hypnotizing her and she looked away.

"What does he ask then?" Amilia prodded

Tyreth could already feel himself failing. He truly wanted to spare this girl's life. Quickly he cleared his throat and glanced down at the girl's neckline. A slight gasp escaped his throat and Amilia took a step away. She could see the large black pupils of her attacker dilate. He had noticed a vein... one precious vein pulsing as blood ran through it; sweet, delicious blood. A smile curved at the man's lips and the sharp fangs began to grow.

'Oh sweet mouth watering blood, let me one taste...'

Amilia froze with fear. Her eyes widened and once more sweat droplets crowned her forehead. A sharp shock ran down the spinal cord of the girl and she was able to force another step mechanically away from the boy.

Tyreth faltered. Realizing what fear he had caused the beautiful girl he cried out and turned away hiding his face with his black leather gloved hands, trembling, again, as he had done as a swaddling infant. Quickly he regained composure and stood erect.

"Please accept my apology, Miss Graves," Tyreth whispered still refusing to make eye contact, "My master wishes to have your allegiance and servitude...and for my sake, please accept."

"I refuse to accept the latter of propositions..." Amilia stated after she, too, recomposed herself.

"Dearest Amilia, you must!" Tyreth cried out looking once again at the girl.

"I will not ally myself to a beast like your master who cannot come himself to ask of my servitude!" Amilia snapped stomping a foot down in defiance.

"Amilia, understand this, you truly must or face death!" Tyreth hissed in hopes to persuade the girl with fear.

Amilia took a step toward the boy tensely. Her fists, she found, were tightly bawled at her sides. Her teeth were clenched, brow furrowed, and eyes wide.

"I choose death."

Tyreth fell back in shock. He had hoped that by blatantly telling Amilia of the consequences, which was against regular procedure, she would agree to comply. He had not expected her to die willingly. Slowly his head fell and the fangs grew.

"Then...I must kill you..."

Amilia closed her eyes tightly expecting the worst sort of death ever. He would rip out her heart and eat it before her very eyes. She would fall limply as he finished devouring her petite body. Tears pushed their ways through the tightly shut eyes and the heart that would soon be eaten began to race a million times faster than when it was in initial fright. Suddenly a breeze swept back the brown curls and Amilia opened her large blue eyes. Tyreth was no longer before her and the window hung wide open. Slowly a thankful smile spread across the girl's face.

Tyreth sat in the tree watching Amilia with the blood red eyes. She was over a mile away but to him he could see her perfectly. The boy was invisible in the black night, with his black leather attire and all, save for his fair face and glowing eyes.

He had left moments before losing control of himself. Regretfully the need to feed had not escaped the appetite of the boy therefore he stole a shepherd boy's lamb. Truthfully, stealing was almost as sickening to Tyreth as killing, but he did not think it as sinful...

Angry with himself the boy looked down at the bleating sheep. Quickly he snapped its neck so as to not cause it suffering. With a boot knife the boy slit the flesh throat and watched as warm red blood ran through the white wool instantly darkening it. Tyreth grimaced, hating with all his heart who and what he was. Once more his stomach growled and with that...

...he began to feed...


	2. Chapter II:

Fang

Chapter 2:

A steaming pot of red stew boiled over the flames. Mander, the portly tavern keeper, took up a ladle and poured the red meaty liquid into a wooden bowl. Slowly he turned toward the bar, looking directly at Amilia. The man approached the shaken girl kindly and placed the bowl before her.  
"Eat up child," he said producing a wooden spoon from his apron.  
Amilia stared down into the soup. Chunks of browned cabbage floated about. Steaming potatoes and carrots bobbed and the beefy chunks of gray meat sank. Amilia's stomach churned as she quickly looked away. The stew reminded her of the nightly occurrences. It had been kind of the man to cook for her but the smell and appearance was terribly unappetizing.  
"Quick, before it goes cold..." Mander smiled charmingly.  
Amilia plucked up the spoon and pushed it through the already solidifying broth. She scooped up a mouthful of stew and ate it appreciatively. Surprisingly it was very good. With renewed vigor and definite hunger, Amilia Graves finished the bowl off ravenously.  
Mander smiled and offered to take the bowl but Amilia wanted more. After three bowls and one going, Mander was amazed as to how the girl kept her petite figure. He ate delicately choosing only "healthies" but was still fat. Of course he'd allow himself to finish off what his children did not and holiday meals always ended in stomach aches... but was that so much?  
"Thank you, sir," Amilia said holding the bowl up for Mander to take.  
"Oh, do not need to be thanking me, missy!" Mander's chest heaved in a bellowy laughter.  
He was a jolly fat man. Amilia found herself giggling in his good nature. Truly, this was a nice man... Amilia was actually sad to be leaving, but her father had given her strict instructions not to remain in one town for more than one night. So, once again, she would have to leave a nice place, with barely enough rest to carry her tired, weary carcass to another town until finally she reached her hometown and the safety of her father. She needn't think of that for awhile. As for now, she had a few more hours before departure.  
Mander returned from the kitchen with beers for the morning drunkards. Amilia yawned, stretching back. The chair tipped and the girl fell. Men all around jumped to her aid. The men pushed and shoved to get to the beautiful girl and make impression by assisting her. Foughts broke out all around the young girl. Mander was not in a position that could easily reach the girl to save her. A large man stomped down on the girl's ankle and she cried out in pain. Fright took a hold of her as she fought to crawl to safety, but the men were tightly packed in... No one truly wanted to help Amilia, only wanting to look good in the attempt for a possible rewarding kiss. Amilia's finger's were smashed multiple times so as to be bleeding and bruised.  
Suddenly someone pushed their hands under the young girl's arms and lifted her. He fought through the crowd pulling Amilia with him. Eventually, after being bumped around, the two made it out of the hustle and to the door. He opened the door and stepped out into the light. Amilia followed quickly.  
"Thank you, greatly!" she gasped, sitting down on the dirt walkway.  
"No need to thank me... I saw what needed to be done and did it..." the man replied turning to Amilia.  
He was very attractive! The girl found herself standing to gaze better into his eyes. They were large and brown. He was tan with cheeks that were pink from the sun, as well as freckled. Amilia smiled reaching out her hand. Instinctively, the man took it and planted a kiss on her fingers. His hair was shorter than Tyreth's had been and dark brown. The wind his bangs up and instantly a gruesome scar caught the girl's eye. She blushed and glanced away.  
"Is something wrong, miss?" the man asked.  
"No, not at all... may I inquire, though... as to where the scar came from?"  
The man laughed taking his hand back and brushing the hair back down. He did not answer the question, but luckily he was not offended. After moments of chat Amilia introduced herself and learned that the man's name was Vincent. He, too, was heading toward the next town over and offered to accompany Amilia. Gladly she had accepted. He, unlike the other men, had not been drunk. He had stayed at the tavern for the night and was on his way out when he saw the uproar and Amilia sitting in the middle trying to escape. Amilia also learned that he was searching for a man who always wore black. Amilia thought back to the previous night about her encounter with the vampire. He had been completely covered in black, save for silver buckles and chains. His hair had even been black...  
"So what brings a lady to travel in her solitude?" Vincent asked turning toward Amilia.  
Amilia had been told not to tell anyone...but this man seemed reasonably safe. She confessed that she was running from "fate". Her father had received a letter from an ancient cult called the "Worshippers of Chaos" giving in great detail of how he would pay for his crimes. Amilia had been in France studying with a scholar when she received word from her father requesting her immediate return home. It had given a brief account of the happenings but not much else. Worried of her father's safety, the girl obliged. She had not known the true threat was to her...  
"My father sent me a letter stating my immediate return home to Austria. I was in France studying with scholars... I left on foot when I received thus letter..." With that, Amilia pulled out the torn page that she kept on her person at all times.  
In fact, she had been happy to return. Lately, she had been sorely homesick. A visit was what she needed to once again become the chipper girl she was; not the forlorn girl Vincent saw.  
"Indeed..." Vincent glanced at the scroll the child held and smiled.  
Amilia replaced it in her jacket and turned away from the man. He had looked and seemed younger before she had caught sight of the scar. Now it remained in her mind, leaving curious thoughts as to what might have happened to acquire such a wound. Vincent did not seem to mind the frequent glances at his forehead, which was, of course, a relief.  
Amilia tripped over a log in the road. Flailing wildly to gain her ground, the girl found herself in the arms of Vincent. She looked up embarrassed as to her clumsiness and giggled slightly. Vincent, upon realizing she was not injured, laughed out as well. Quickly the man brought her to her feet and stepped back.  
"Watch where you are stepping, Miss Graves," the man joked.  
Amilia bowed her head, blushing. She was a lady, therefore supposed to be graceful. However, Amilia had not inherited grace. Her FATHER was even more graceful than she. Upon word the child had learned her mother had been very graceful...

One dark rainy day in November of 1841, a woman gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. The husband had been overcome by emotion and tears fell from his eyes. The wife held the infant out and named it. Slowly she brought the child into her chest and kissed it. Its loud bawling silenced and it slowly opened its eyes and looked up at the one who brought it into the world. The woman was overcome with the same emotion as her husband. She smiled once more at the baby before a midwife took it away for cleaning...  
That was when complications began... the baby never saw her mother again.

18 years later and still the baby did not know the truth of her mother's death. Amilia had asked her father many a time, only to be quieted. Nathaniel had therefore single handedly raised his daughter to the best of his abilities. Amilia did not know what her mother looked like, but Nathan assured the girl that she looked "just like her mother". This always put a smile on her face.  
"We are almost there," Vincent said breaking into Amilia's thoughts.  
"Where?" the girl asked startled.  
"The castle of which we will have to part ways," Vincent replied, "You will be on your own once more... For that, I apologize. Do be careful though...there are many dangers out there... and not all of them may be natural."  
Vincent turned at the fork and waved a final goodbye. Amilia continued on straight ward feeling lonelier than ever. Vincent had been much company and very kind. She was actually sad to see him go. Although something he said made her think it would not be the last on him she ever saw. For that she smiled.  
The sun was up and the day was hot. It was late afternoon and many animals were out producing their cheerful songs. Amilia smiled again keeping her chin up. The day was still good and the town only a mile or more away.

Tyreth sat in the dark dungeon scornfully. He could hear the mocks and laughter outside of his damp cell that brought a menacing hiss out of his throat. His peers quickly left and Tyreth sighed. He was being punished for failing. It was not a particularly bad punishment by any means. It was just the fact that he had to sit there alone for a week to be humiliated. Of course, being in the cell meant he could not adequately fend off his attackers. -Only give a few warning hisses that sent them scattering. Without food for a week he would be weak once allowed to escape. That meant he would probably be bullied around, teased, and beaten by his peers. It was a damnable position to be in... However he felt good about the decision he had made. His master had not felt the same way though, therefore, disapproved and punished the youngest vampire in the sect.  
Tyreth closed his eyes and sighed bringing back images of Amilia. His still heart beat against his chest and the boy found himself smiling. She had not seemed to truly fear him like most mortals. She had seemed more perplexed; not fearful.  
Suddenly, the shadows at the door scattered away. Tyreth opened his eyes and glanced up at the minimal amount of light pouring in through the heavy door. The light was suddenly blocked off. A chill ran down Tyreth's spine and he jumped up as the cell door opened.  
A large man, many times taller and muscular even than Tyreth, entered. Tyreth could not see his face but knew very well that it was his master. The man before Tyreth was not at all undead. He was the spirit of the man who had been locked up 29 years ago. Somehow his spirit had been freed, yet to regain full power he needed human sacrifices. His plan had been to use Amilia, his arch nemeses' daughter.  
"Long last, Tyreth...why have you betrayed me?" the dark shadow spoke.  
Tyreth's innards vibrated with the low rumble of his master's deep voice. The boy did not answer. He bowed his head and avoided the gaze of the being before him. The master stood tensely...angrily.  
"Tyreth, you brat! Answer me!!" the man lunged forward shoving the boy into the wall.  
"Please...she is only a girl..." Tyreth wailed, struggling to free himself of the much larger vampire's grasp.  
"I asked you to do for me one simple thing, of which others have done many times!" the man bellowed shoving his long nails into the boy's neck.  
"I haven't the heart like they do!" Tyreth cried out, this time in pain.  
The large man dropped the boy and turned away. Tyreth fell to the dirt. A steady trickle of blood fell from his neck until the wound closed. The master turned slowly towards the boy trembling in the corner.  
"You better learn to be like them soon, or regret that I ever raised you from that whore of a mother!"  
With that the vampire king slammed the cell door shut and disappeared. Once finally alone, Tyreth allowed tears to fall from his icy blue eyes. His master had raised him from infantry and it was only right to repay the deed. Yet his conscience would not let him be. Slowly he glanced down at his left hand; it had a large scar on it. He couldn't remember exactly where the scar had come from but it was the only wound that had ever remained. All other inflictions usually healed themselves because of his vampiric heritage.

As a child, Tyreth had always been bullied. He was smaller than the other vampires and easy to pick on. It was not help that his mother had been splayed only days after his birth. He was raised by his master yet still had his mother's kind heart. His master's cruel ways never imbedded themselves in the boy.  
One day, as Tyreth was studying, a commotion arose outside of the castle. Everyone rushed around erratically. The master was hidden by guards. Three Cerberus dogs were released and a woman rushed into Tyreth's room. He was ten then and very naive to the harshness of the world. The woman grabbed him and was about to throw him into hiding when a large stake ran through her chest. Although Tyreth was afraid of such things he had seen enough blood it did not disturb him.  
The woman feel and the man behind her turned toward the young boy sitting quietly behind his books. He stared blankly at the dead vampire and slowly looked up at the man. From then on Tyreth could not remember what happened for weeks... He just woke up one day with the scar that never healed.  
The master had cremated the slain and moved on with life. The losses seemed greater to Tyreth. He mourned for many more weeks than his brethren. Eventually he stopped caring about the many losses that seemed to occur more frequently. The master had already replaced the members of the sect that had been brutally murdered.  
The man, of whom Tyreth saw kill the innocent vampiric woman, was Amilia's father. He would never forget the face of that man. Right before Tyreth had forgotten everything for weeks, he had seen the man glaring madly at him. He had been terrified at the time as a boy... Now, he did not think he'd be so scared.  
The memories of that day still haunted him...that was when everything changed.

A large rat ran past Tyreth's foot. He grimaced. Slowly the hunger of not being fed panged him. The boy guiltily pounced upon the rodent and sniffed at it. He could smell infection and knew it was a rabid beast. Such diseases did not harm vampires. Tyreth would be able to pass the infection on through his urine... so it would not affect him, yet...still... He was not persuaded to eat. The rat fell and scampered off.  
Tyreth looked at the leaking ceiling. He was beginning to hate himself even more. He was the son of a king. The prince of an underground world he hated. Unable to eat the living for remorse and hated for that by his peers. Unable to love a mortal because of immortality... hated for that by humans. In either world he was to be hated... yet always feeling guilty.  
Stress and fatigue won the boy over and he fell asleep. It was peculiar and a bad sign... the moon was up and Tyreth slept.


	3. Chapter III:

Fang

Chapter 3:

The weeks wore on and Amilia was, once again, home. Her father had been extremely pleased to finally see her. He had welcomed her home, initially. -Now he remained locked in the library. It was as usual. Amilia knew, though, that she was safe. Her father was wealthy and had hired many guards to protect the girl.

Amilia was bored. She found herself playing around with old trinkets in her bedroom. Two guards sat in nicely cushioned chairs watching her. Neither of them spoke... In fact they were so still Amilia was unsure if they were even living.

A small locket fell out of the box Amilia had tipped over. The girl took it up slowly and inspected it. Realization in the familiarity of it struck Amilia. Her father had given this to her the day she turned 16. He had given it to her mother on HER 16th birthday as well. To him it only seemed right that Amilia receive it. She had forgotten it until now. Slowly the girl opened the silver gift.

Surprisingly it opened. -Before it had never opened. Something had happened to it that sealed it shut. There sat the picture Amilia had longed to see. Her mother; so young and beautiful... A smile curved the girl's lips and tears fell. Quickly she brought the locket to her neck and put it on. I try to conserve paper by using very little space...When I get it published though...They'll be traditional...and on a separate line.)

In the lush flowering garden, Amilia met with her father. He was sitting at the table, reading, when the girl approached. Nathaniel Graves glanced up at his fair complected daughter and smiled. Amilia sat across from him and smiled in return.

The child did not mind sitting in silence as her father returned to his book. She just enjoyed his company. The man froze and slowly looked up again. Amilia just sat, smiling. Nathaniel cleared his throat and set his book aside.

"My dear... is something wrong?" he asked reaching out to touch her clasped hands.

"Why was I summoned?" Amilia asked finally.

Nathaniel Graves went pale. He glanced down at the book he was reading. It was an ancient book on the realms of magic. Once more Amilia inquired as to her father's reasoning for calling her home. With a great inhale the man looked up and opened his mouth. Nothing came out and he shook his head.

"Father?"

"Dearest child...it'd be better for you to not know..." the man said finally.

Angrily Amilia stood and entered the house hold, Graves's mansion. She found three of the garden guards were sleeping. That was a definite nuisance. She kicked at them and walked on into the parlor. The girl sat at the desk and stared into the heart of the fireplace. Nostalgic memories flooded her mind. The slight flicker and crackle of the flame hypnotized the girl. Being in such relaxed state she did not notice the intruders.

A few vampire bats sat under the desk inches from Amilia's knee. The largest one stretched out and took a snap at the flesh but Amilia was moving. She stood and turned toward the pile of letters. One was addressed to her father from "an old friend." The other was addressed to him from "the shadow in your light." Both intrigued her and she pocketed them before dashing off to her chamber.

The bats dropped onto the floor and crawled out from beneath the desk. Suddenly they grew. The wings folded back into human muscles and the claws softened into fingers. The ears shrank and the fur vanished into skin. Three men stood in the parlor unclad. They grinned maliciously, baring large white fangs. The largest man walked into the dining hall to find the sleeping guards where they slept. Amilia did not hear the commotion; being far too enthralled in her letters...

Tyreth sat in the bay window still in his room. He could see a carriage in the distance approaching the castle. He turned to his master and dropped his eyes. The man turned away and exited the room. Tyreth sighed and turned back towards the window. The moon was large but not full...Dracula would have to wait for the next full moon...for it waned away at the moment. For that, Tyreth was thankful. It meant he had time to decide which was more valuable; human life or his father's love and acceptance.

The carriage was five miles away now. Tyreth could see the driver. He was wearing a large coat that was pulled up around his neck. His face was clean shaven. Tyreth watched intently as the carriage drew closer. Suddenly a flint of silver caught the young vampire's eye. A thick chain necklace hung around the man's neck. At the end of the chain, dangling about the man's chest, was a large gothic cross.

Tyreth fell out of the window and onto the hard wood floor. He jumped up and lunged for the door know knocking his coffin over. Once in the hall he rushed towards the Audience Hall. A loose stone slid out from under the batpup's foot and he fell, again.

"Ska!" Tyreth cried out, "Ska! Intruders!"

A large man entered the Audience Hall from the Courtyard. He turned to Tyreth and laughed out. Roughly, he pulled the boy to his feet by the scruff of his neck. Tyreth avoided eye contact with the giant.

"What are you crying for, Tye?" the monster asked shaking the boy slightly.

Tyreth looked toward the Dining Hall. The large gold doors were shut. The boy looked down at his feet, hanging inches from the stone floor. The brute holding the boy up shook him once more before dropping the boy.

"Tyreth?"

Tyreth turned and looked up at the ceiling. There hung dozens of his brethren. They were half awake; some were even watching the conversation below. Tiny beady red eyes darted about the hall, all falling upon Tyreth. A small portion was in humanoid form. Most of the vampires were bats or ghouls in the form of shadows. Tyreth did not see his master or the sect priest.

"Let me be, Ahren!" Tyreth exclaimed finally, "I need to find Ska or the Master..."

"What for?" Ahren laughed again picking Tyreth up once more.

"That does NOT concern you!" Tyreth spat.

The smaller, younger being did not give into the bullying. He struggled to free himself; kicking and hissing. Ahren only laughed. Finally, Tyreth sank his large incisors into the brute vampire's arm. Like all bullies, Ahren too, was a coward. He dropped Tyreth and flew to the ceiling in bat form. Quickly, Tyreth ran out of the Audience Hall to resume his search.

The larger bat beside Ahren turned to him and laughed. Ahren shrank back knowing all too well what was going to happen.

"What are you crying for, Air?" the larger bat cooed.

The mass of furry wriggling bodies all began laughing. Ahren was scorned. His bleeding wing healed. Ashamed, the bat flew out into the night once more.

Tyreth entered the Clock Tower. He searched about the room. A werewolf sat in the corner sleepily. It looked up at him as he passed. Tyreth stopped before the large clock and opened it. A tiny white bat hung drowsily within.

"Ska?"

The bat opened its red eyes and stretched. It dropped down and swooped out. Tyreth took a step back, allowing the man to grow before him.

The man was oldest in appearance. He was frail and covered in wrinkles and age spots. Long white stringy hair came out of his ears and nose. He had a few strands on his head as well. The hunched back jutted out with the spine of the old man. His eyes were red and wet. Tyreth stepped back. He really did not like Ska. The old man was somewhat senile.

"What do you need, young one?" the man asked sniffling.

Tyreth fought for the correct words. He glanced at his feet and then back into the man's eyes. Ska waddled forward to better see Tyreth. His vision was not at all as good as Tyreth's.

The younger vampire stepped away again. He could smell Ska's rank odor and gagged. Ska trembled, barely able to stand on his own. Tyreth bowed his head in shame.

Five years earlier and Tyreth had finally been accepted into the sect by the other beings of the night. Tyreth had been 13 years of age in appearance. He couldn't fully remember his real age. His body was maturing much slower than a human's but his mind, much quicker. Of course this was only an advantage against the humans, being as they were prey. He was still the youngest vampire batpup, therefore the least mature in most aspects when compared to the bulk of the sect.

Tyreth had been taking his nightly walk through the nearest town. Most of the humans were in their houses. The ones that weren't, were drunk or homeless anyways. One man lay coughing. Tyreth turned to him and watched.

The man had no clothes and lay shivering in the night. He coughed and a rust colored froth ran out of his mouth, down his chest. His body was terribly discolored in its pallor and somewhat raw to the eye. He had long tangled hair all over his body. The rag covering his groins was urine stained. The hands and feet on the man were chapped and cut up. His nails were discolored, chipped, and in need of a trim.

Tyreth approached the man cautiously. Suddenly a large rat jumped upon the coughing man and began gnawing at his neck. The young vampire cried out and kicked the varmint away. Slowly, he bent down to inspect the barely living human. The man was old...very old. He was mostly skeletal with wrinkled and rotting skin stretched over. Tyreth pitied the man.

The wind picked up and a slight draft traveled into the alley Tyreth sat in. The rank smell wafted up into the air. It was pungent and smelled heavily of rot. Tyreth retched, miserably and embarrassed.

Shamefully, the boy turned back to the dying man. He sat back and stared on blankly. A strange feeling ran down the boy's spine. He turned slowly, only to see Amon standing before him.

"Put this filth out of its misery!" she snapped.

Tyreth lost his balance and fell back. Amon flew upward and disappeared into the night. Tyreth turned again to the man, bringing his knees to his chest. Another fitful cough escaped the man.

"I...I can help..." Tyreth whispered touching the man's hand.

Tyreth bowed his head allowing the needed teeth to grow, causing his jaw to jut out. The man cried out in pain, grabbing Tyreth's arm. The boy looked up in shock. A deathful smell passed through the still air. Tyreth realized that the man was near his final minutes...death was approaching.

"I can...give you life. Life after death..." Tyreth said staring into the glazing gold eyes.

And that was exactly what he did.

Of course, Amon had not been happy with Tyreth for his deed. She has assumed the young vampire would have fed on Ska. She thought Tyreth's pathetic emotional attachments to human life were gone. He had not gotten over them, as in apparent...

"Go on, tell me what is on your mind, young Master," Ska said again.

"They're here..." Tyreth finally whispered fearfully.

Tyreth sat in his room once again. The carriage was two miles away now. Ska, being new and still wise to the human world, with the exception of The Master, was now consulting with the "Counsel of Elders." Tyreth was bracing for another breach in the castle, although, he thought it odd for there to be only one carriage full of perpetrators.

Slowly the boy's mind wandered. He thought, again, of the fateful day when a Vampire Killer had slain so many of his family single handedly. His head fell once more. He trembled a few times, before gaining control of his sense. Quickly, the boy shook away the remaining feelings of fear and stood. There was something else on his mind; nagging at him. He exited the room in search of his master.

Amilia glanced at the large clock behind her father. It was a quarter until ten. The man, at the head of the table, looked up and smiled at his daughter. She sat silently at the other end. The cooks were in the kitchen, washing the evening meal dishes. The three house guards were walking around silently. Amilia cleared her throat, finally putting an end to the silence.

"I found something," Amilia whispered.

Nathaniel glanced up inquisitively. He took a sip from the wine before him. Slowly, he returned to his reading, when it appeared Amilia would not continue. Amilia sat silent...and when she did not go on with thus discovery, Nathan looked up again.

"Go on my dear...what is it that you have found?"

"The letters. The ones addressed to you...I read them. Why weren't you honest in why I was to come home?"

"Amilia, those were private," Nathan said with a hint of anger in his tone.

"Why didn't you tell me, I was the target?!" Amilia pressed.

"Amilia! Why did you read those?!" Nathaniel snapped, "They were private!"

"I know!" The girl burst into angry sobs, "I couldn't help it!!"

With that, Amilia rushed off to her room. Nathan stared blankly at her empty seat. He glanced down at the suddenly tasteless wine and pushed it aside. The cook entered and turned toward the bookshelf behind the kitchen door. He coughed slightly before turning to his master.

"Would you like me to refill your glass, sir?" the cook asked.

Nathan looked up at the man and gently shook his head. The cook nodded, exiting the room. Nathan sighed wringing his hands together. He pushed himself back and stood. Suddenly the butler rushed in.

"Sir! You have a visitor! The man says his business is urgent!"

Amilia woke the next morning earlier than usual. Her pillow was tear-stained and damp still. Slowly the girl pushed herself out of bed, yawning. Her dark curly hair was knotted and tangled. Her face was puffy and her eyes blood shot.

There was a slight breeze that entered through the open window. The white crape curtains danced about in its glee. Amilia took in a deep breath and exhaled slowly. Her white nightgown followed in step with the curtains. The spring scent filled the girl's lungs and a smile curved her forlorn lips.

"What a beautiful day..." she whispered, rubbing the remnants of tears out of her eyes.

Quickly, the girl dressed. She rushed down the stairs and into the parlor. Her father was not there. The girl went into the dining hall only to realize he was not there either. After a long while of searching the mansion, the girl stopped a servant to inquire about the whereabouts of her father.

"Where is my father?"

"Oh, he had business to attend to. He left word that Miss Amilia did NOT have permission to leave the house... and if she is to take a walk in the garden, she is to bring guards with her," the servant said, "He means it too, Miss. He was very stern and everyone knows it."

Amilia nodded allowing the servant to return to her duties. The returned to the dining hall and sat. Her stomach growled and she bowed her head in hunger. The cooks were still preparing her meal. Patiently, she waited.

After an hour of waiting her patience quickly faded. The cooks brought out a large meal. Amilia ate it hungrily. Satisfied by the food, the girl finished in a matter of minutes, only to brought more. She devoured that helping, quickly, as well.

Amilia thanked the cooks, who seemed to know her quite well: what she liked and how much she could consume, as she stood and exited. After many hours of boredom, she found herself missing the exciting journey from France to Austria. Her father was not home to adequately entertain her and the servants were always busy. Amilia decided to go on that walk in the garden shortly after sitting in hours of silence.

The girl opened the glass doors to the courtyard and stepped out onto the lovely patio. Suddenly, three guards appeared at her sides. Amilia turned to look at them feeling confused. She knew she was supposed to have guards with her, upon her father's word, but there were guards stationed IN the garden who could do the job.

Amilia looked into the garden realizing she did not see these guards. Even more confused the girl stepped onto the grass glancing around, realizing the guards were nowhere to be seen. She scowled. Without much of a choice, the girl turned to the guards who were behind her now.

The day was still quite lovely and she did not want to waste it in the mansion. Smiling, the girl stepped out of her slippers and onto the fresh grass. The guards did not follow her into the warm sunlight. They stood in the shadows, staring at her. Amilia turned to them again, beckoning.

"We can see you from here," the largest one said.

Amilia's face went hard and rigid. Her jaw line became visible to them. She scowled, folding her arms across her chest. The fat guard glanced over his shoulder, into the mansion. He seemed nervous. Amilia realized she was angry.

"I believe my father gave you strict orders that you escort me INTO the garden. I do not think it wise to disobey them!" She snapped.

The largest guard pushed the fat, short guard, and the skinny tall guard out before him. He laughed when they cried out in fear. Amilia turned away and continued walking deeper into the garden. The three guards obeyed her demand. They seemed frightened, but, honestly, Amilia did not care.

She walked on, admiring the flowers as she went. Slowly, the girl found herself drawn to the rose bush. A tearful smile found its way onto her face. The girl leaned into the bush and inhaled deeply. The sweet honey like smell filled her lungs. The roses seemed to enjoy the attention. Amilia grinned turning to the guards.

The beautiful smell was suddenly overpowered by a rotting scent. Amilia gasped, covering her mouth in shock. She glared at the flowering bush and turned away quickly, believing an animal must have died in it.

"What is it, Milady?" the tallest guard asked.

The girl turned back to the guards, noticing a strange gray haze about them. It floated upward and swirled about. Amilia watched it a moment longer, before shoving past the men and walking toward the fountain in the center.

It was large and made of marble stone. Angels were carefully carved in the stone. Amilia had always loved her fountain more so than those in town squares. She glanced down at her reflection in the water. The fat guard leaned in to glance down at the girl. Amilia looked over at the non existing reflection he bore. A strange shiver ran down her spine. He breathed down her neck, resulting in goose bumps.

"Sir..." Amilia mumbled, "Do you...see something in the water?"

Both Amilia and the guard leaned in towards the fountain, squinting. He could hear the girl mumbling something to herself, but the helmet he wore made it hard for him to make out any definite words. Amilia leaned in even further. Her hands slipped on the moss covered stone that made up the fountain's foundations, and she fell into the water, crying out. The fat guard fell to the guard, clutching an angel's spear, screaming. Amilia resurfaced and stared blankly at the smoldering heap. It sizzled. The girl pulled herself out of the fountain, trembling and stood above the obvious remains of a vampire.

The young woman turned instantly on the other two guards. She walked toward them stopping a foot before the largest in bulk. He shrank away but Amilia flashed a cocky smile to him, despite the feeling of fear in her stomach.

"You aren't doing a good job at protecting me!" She teased.

The two remaining men nodded. Amilia walked on toward the white wicker table she and her father sat at regularly. It sat placidly in the shade of a great grandmother willow tree. She sat reaching up to stroke a leaflet. The two guards rushed into the shade panting.

"Amilia, the day is hot!" the tallest guard said pulling on the pure silver chain that hung around his neck. It had left an obvious abrasion as it seemed to eat away at the man.

"Hot, sir?" Amilia pondered the word, "You say 'hot'? Yet... I am wearing wool and have yet to break a sweat. It is not hot! You are just complaining!"

The guard nodded. Amilia unbuttoned the neck of her dress and dabbed cool water on her neck. The guards watched, unmoving. She glanced at the taller one, as he licked at his lips. Quickly, the girl re-buttoned her neckline. She pulled out the cross necklace her father had given to her. He forbade the slightest thought to her ever taking it off.

"Sir, could you assist me?" Amilia asked the largest guard.

He nodded stepping forward. The girl turned away holding the clasp up for him to see. The tallest guard shifted his weight uneasily, tugging at the heavy armor. Amilia watched him carefully.

"The clasp, I believe, is stuck," Amilia said quietly, "I can never undo it...perhaps you can."

Hesitantly the larger guard took the clasp in his hands and began to untangle it. His gloves stripped away in a sizzling fashion, leaving his fingers bare to the exposure. They were immediately chapped and burned. The guard grimaced, biting his tongue to hold in the pain. The rotting smell deepened and Amilia pulled away, as it was too much for her to bear.

"I guess it's just stuck..." she forced a small laugh.

In reality, the clasp had been welded together by Nathaniel. He wanted to ensure that Amilia never lost it. She turned toward the tomb of her father's mater, Morris Baldwin. She walked to it, knowing the vampires would follow. She had the proof she needed to accuse and condemn them.

"I suppose it is a little hot out here. He'll pay our respects and then return to the homestead."

The larger fiend nodded shoving the younger, taller one to follow the girl. She beckoned to them both and walked on through the rows of large flowering bushes.

Amilia stopped just before entering in the shade and turned to the "guards". The large cloud of smoke continued to billow out through their armor toward the sky. She knew the sun was branding the silver attire to their bodies. A sickening knot tied in her stomach.  
"Wait for me here.." Amilia said.

Quickly, she opened the tomb. A cool gust of wind blew out at her with a heavy smell of garlic. The vampire's retched. Amilia entered, leaving the two weakening men.

A large gold casket lay open faced with a preserved elderly man. Amilia whispered a prayer before taking up the goblet of water. It had been many times blessed before. She turned to the casket and reached out towards it. A silver cross lay in the master's hands. She apologized to the corpse, before taking the cross hilted sword.

The girl left the tomb. The larger vampire was gone. A strange feeling took a hold of the girl as she turned to the remaining vampire. He shrank away. The goblet glinted in the sunlight as it flipped in the air. Purple water splashed about the demon before Amilia. He was cried out in definite pain, falling to his knees.

"Damned vampire!" Amilia shrieked holding the cross up.

"Wait!" the man screamed holding his hands up, "How did you know?!"

"Stupid fool! Humans have shadows and reflections! They do not melt or smolder in water...and I do not think it to be normal to smoke because of sunlight!"

"Please! D-Dracula sent us!"

Amilia thrust the weapon deep into her enemy's cold heart. She yanked it free of the lifeless body and swung it around cutting the head away from the neck. Quickly, she turned away, trembling. The girl sprinted into the mansion, fearing her life. Time was short with evil about, and she was alone...


	4. Chapter IV:

Chapter 4:

Dracula sat in the throne before the chamber. The council meeting, lead by Ska, explained the situation, giving all possible solutions. The meeting was suddenly interrupted. Tyreth shoved through the double doors and fell before Dracula. The man stood angrily.  
"Tyreth? What is the meaning of this?!" he boomed.  
Tyreth turned to the elders who all bowed their heads. Dracula glanced up at the elders and scowled. Slowly he sat and Tyreth looked up at his face. The boy trembled slightly, forcing a brave smile onto his face.  
"I was wondering if I could have a second chance..." the boy whispered nervously.  
Dracula squinted down at the boy. He hesitated before turning to the counsel. They were motionless. The man thought for a moment before looking at Tyreth once more. His eyes narrowed.  
"Do you mean to trick me?"  
Tyreth fell back. He shook his head disappointed. He had been thrice mistrusted by The Master. Slowly he glanced up and stood. Everyone behind him gasped, for he stood higher than Dracula, The Master.  
"Trust me or don't. I don't care! If you do, send me out, and I WILL get the girl. If not, drive a stake through my heart now, for I tire of depression!"  
Dracula stared up at the puny vampire. To humans, Tyreth was strong in comparison, but to others in his sect, he was tiny and weak. Slowly, Dracula stood, pulling Tyreth up to face him at eye level.  
"Do you stand higher than ME, Brat?" The Master snarled.  
"N-no, sir," Tyreth whispered, lowering his gaze.  
Dracula dropped the boy and laughed slightly. Tyreth shrank back keeping his head down. Quickly, he crawled away and stood to exit the auditorium. Dracula glanced up calmly after a moment of thought.  
"Tyreth," he called out.  
The young vampire froze. He turned to his Master and stared, unblinking. The oldest vampire sat once more and nodded. Tyreth stepped forward, unbelieving and confused. He looked from his Master to the counsel. Dracula laughed out, drawing all of the attention to himself.  
"You may have your second chance. Don't ruin it!"  
Tyreth grinned, finally exiting. He stood on the other side of the heavy double doors. Slowly, he leaned against them and pushed his hair out of his face.  
Amilia's face came to his mind and the smile faded. He walked to his room and looked around. The sun was setting. The carriage had been drawn up in front of the castle, yet no one had stirred. Nobody exited the carriage, entered the castle, or exited the castle. That was until Tyreth did.  
Quickly, he leapt into the night sky, just as the remaining sun disappeared below the earth. In an instant, he was a tiny bat, vanishing against the black sky. Tyreth was gone...

A few men stood watch over the great church. One shifted his weight and watched as two bats flew out from the tower. He squinted but could no longer see them, yet could hear the swarm of bats at the tower peak.  
A tall man wearing a blue robe exited the church. He had long black-graying hair and dark eyes. Followed behind him was Nathaniel Graves. The taller man turned to Nathan and stood, frozen.  
"I'm glad you came, dear friend... I see our motives are, once again, the same. I won't be so weak this time..."  
Nathan reached out and embraced his friend. The two held each other, as memories of the past filled their eyes with tears. Slowly, Nathan pulled away and smiled bravely up at the man.  
"Your father would be a proud man to see you now, Hugh," Nathan whispered resting his hand on the man's broad shoulders.  
"Thank you," Hugh said.  
After a brief moment, Nathan entered the carriage and took off. Hugh turned once more to the church and exhaled. Slowly, he entered, nodding to the guards. They stood respectively motionless.  
The swarm of bats froze. The remaining men glanced up. The bodies of the bats were still, in mid-air. The tallest guard squinted at the multitude of still black. He, with the sharpest ears, could hear something like that of a cloak flailing in the wind.  
"What's going on up there?" he asked.  
"Stand guard, men," the captain said shifting his weight and drawing his sword.  
Some of the bats seemed to explode. Blood rained down from the sky onto the men, who ducked crying out. The captain looked up in time to see the tallest guard drained of life. Slowly, he turned just as the skin on the other man melted away. The captain let out a scream, full of fear, but it was cut short.

Hugh pulled on his gloves and turned toward the door, just as it flew open. A large dark skinned man entered, bearing a familiar signet to Hugh. The man stopped before the altar. He held up his blood covered hands and grinned, revealing the infamous fangs. Hugh fell back.  
"Baldwin..." the man hissed, deeply.  
The large, stain glass windows shattered with the ominous voice. With them were the stories, hopes, and dreams of the holy. Hugh turned away, snatching the goblet of holy water. A fiery whip smacked at the silver cross welded goblet. The water splashed out and the goblet hit the floor. Not a drop was spared.  
"Tell me, holy man, where is your friend?" the fiend demanded.  
Hugh watched the water trickle through the cobble stones. He bowed his head and reached into this robe. The vampire beast stood erect and growled, a deep throaty sound.  
"You do not realize the strength I have received through God... It will not be taken away from me!" Hugh cried out throwing the robe hidden hand up.  
A six tailed whip struck the beast across the chest, ripping into the signet. Hugh allowed the robe to fall from his shoulders. Once more, he was the man of many years before, fighting alongside Graves, to rid the country of vampires. A smirk lit upon his face and briskly he kissed the cross that hung around his neck, before lunging toward the beast.  
Tyreth opened his eyes. The storm had interrupted his flight and before he had gone very far, the sun had come up. He pushed himself further into the tree, away from all rays of light. His wings were soaked and his fur matted.  
The tree, in which Tyreth took shelter, was a large Oak Tree. (That is subject to change...as well...again, I'm not too familiar with the wildlife Austria contains.) It had been a home to many animals, proving perfectly suitable a shelter to the bat. Quickly, the vampire shut his large brown eyes and snuggled closer against the damp bark.  
Hours upon hours passed by and Tyreth did not budge. He slept, he ate a few insects, and he cleaned the fur on his winds but never left the safety of the tree. A squirrel had attempted entrance, and Tyreth hissed. Nothing else had returned.  
An hour after the squirrel had intruded on the vampire's slumber, a man walked by the tree. He was humming and plucking at something. Tyreth couldn't really see what was becoming of his shelter.  
The boy crawled closer toward the knot hole. The man was, in reality, a teenage boy. He stood carving something into the tree, while a girl sat watching. She giggled and grinned with pride. Suddenly, the teen shoved his hand into the hole.  
Tyreth squeaked, chomping down onto the intrusive hand. The boy cried out in pain and the girl shrieked in fear. A string of swears crossed the teen's mouth and he peered into the hole. Tyreth snarled, backing away. The girl chided the boy and stomped away. The boy followed, swearing once more at Tyreth, as he went.  
The bat curled up again to sleep. He had nothing better to do while he waited for the night sky. The day was late and soon he would leave and resume the search for Amilia Graves. For the time being, though, he would sleep.

Amilia rushed up the hill, sweating profusely. She fell to her knees, pantint to catch her breath. The girl crawled a ways, to a lone Oak Tree. Tearfully, the girl pulled her knapsack to her chest, leaning up against the tree.  
Tears rushed down her fair face as she trembled in pain. Soon it would be nightfall and Amilia had yet to cross an inn, tavern, or homestead willing to take in a runaway. She would have to face the night, tired and fearful.  
Slowly, the girl fell asleep. Her body fell limp and the knapsack slid off of her chest. An apple rolled out and something within the sack clicked on. A soft melody began playing.

The sleeping Tyreth startled awake. It was dusk and he could exit the tree safely. Music filled the large pointed ears. The bat dropped from his hanging spot and swooped out of the dark damp hole. The vampire grew and fur vanished. Tyreth searched for his clothes and upon retrieving them, quickly dressed.  
There was a soft thud behind the boy and a girl was revealed. Tyreth jumped back startled. He made short realization as to where the music was coming from. Slowly, the boy crept towards the far side of the large tree. A second gasp escaped the boy.  
Amilia Graves lay sleeping, with nothing but a small knapsack. He glanced down at the bug bitten apple and kicked it away. Tyreth opened the knapsack to find few belongings. The girl had packed a knife, small trinkets, and apples. He turned to her and shifted uncomfortably.  
All the girl wore was a pair of riding boots and pants, as well as a large blouse. For a wealthy and beautiful girl, she was dressed manly. Tyreth scowled in disapproval, returning his attention to the bag. He pulled out a tiny music box. It clicked off and the music stopped.  
Amilia sat up groaning. She rubbed her eyes and glanced up. Tyreth turned to her dropping the trinket. He stood and backed away. He knew the moment to prove himself was now.  
"You shouldn't travel alone..." Tyreth whispered, "You could get killed."  
Amilia stared in horror at the boy. He dropped to his knees and reached a hand out. Amilia opened her mouth to protest, but found herself taking the hand. Tyreth stood, pulling the girl to her feet. At that moment, Tyreth felt warm. A smile formed at his lips and he shivered.  
"I'm not going to hurt you, Amilia," the boy said quietly, "I don't think I could hurt a human..."  
Amilia also smiled. She no longer felt fear in her heart. The threatening hold that paralyzed her disappeared. Tyreth looked away. He was at shame, disappointed at himself, yet in an odd satisfying way. The girl touched his shoulder.  
"I know you won't harm me..." she said breathing out a sigh of relief, "I thought that maybe...your instinct would."  
"I don't have the thirst for blood!" Tyreth hissed, "Just a natural hunger..."  
Tyreth bowed his head. He was a black sheep. The misfit. He had disappointed his Master. Once more, Tyreth would be called a failure among his people. Ahren would bully him and Ska would be banished.  
From the forest below, wolves cried out. Tyreth looked up and glanced back towards Amilia. She shrank away in fear, knowing the beasts would tear her apart in seconds.  
A pack of about 20 wolves charged up the hill toward Tyreth and Amilia. Tyreth turned to Amilia, again. Snatching her in one hand, her belongings in the other, the boy jumped up into the tree. Instantly, the wolves surrounded it, barking ravenously. Amilia shrieked pushing away from the boy. Tyreth stared into her frightened eyes. He released her and sat for a paralyzed moment. Quickly, he dove down into the pack.  
The vampire disappeared under the fur. The dogs continued jumping at the tree; clawing their bodies halfway up, before falling upon the others and beginning the cycle again. Amilia threw down an apple, hitting the muzzle of a brown wolf. It snarled biting the solid item in half for demonstration. The wolves ripping into Tyreth, began screaming. Amilia stood, clinging to the branch beside her. She averted her attention away from the dogs.  
A large shadow clouded the beasts below. It contracted and the largest wolf was squeezed, yelping. Its body crunched and went limply. The shadow did not cease. It squeezed the Alpha Dog in half. The skin split causing blood to fall from its position onto the pack below. The carcass fell. The remaining wolves sniffed at the body before fleeing.  
The shadow stood, erect and fell like a cape around Tyreth, who was completely unharmed. He turned to Amilia and leapt into the tree beside her. The girl watched him for seconds before screaming as she stepped away. Her boot slid on the mossy tree, from the rain from the night before, and Amilia fell. Tyreth cried out, grabbing the girl and pulling her close to him.  
"I know, we are enemies by fate... but I swear, I will not hurt YOU... Do not let your fear take control of your senses like that..." Tyreth sighed.  
Amilia's large blue eyes rolled back and she fell limply in the vampire's arms. He sat in the tree cradling the unconscious girl. The night was dark and silent. Tyreth scanned the surrounding for a safer area Amilia could stay. After finally deciding the tree was the best spot, the boy stood and leapt off the branch. He vanished into the night, leaving Amilia exposed in her solitude.

The day broke and Amilia was blanketed with soft dew. The girl opened her eyes, groaning. The branch she sat in faced the east, in which the sun rose. A few birds spotted the sky, searching for their breakfast.  
Amilia sniffled, taking her sleeve to dry her face. Her belongings were tied up nicely and hung on a branch above her. The girl stood, shaking the remaining cold night from her skin. The ground was not far from the branch, as she'd initially assumed. Grabbing the knapsack, the girl jumped down onto the grassy knoll below.  
She searched for a moment, with a slight hope in seeing Tyreth, but he was long gone. The wolf carcass was still lying stiffly. Flies and other insects shrouded its body. Amilia gagged, escaping the sight, sound, and smell it left in her mind.  
Once more, Amilia glanced around. After finding no traces of her dark and mysterious acquaintance, she decided to continue her journey alone. Her feet were still slightly sore from the run the day before, yet she persevered. Quickly, down the hill the girl ran.  
The forest concealed her presence to the world. Amilia ran, until she could no longer carry herself. Staggering clumsily to the stream, the girl fell. Tears panged her eyes and she let out a wail. Pain shot through her entire body.  
The stream trickled on through the rocks. It was moving water and seemingly clear. Amilia was dehydrated, among other things, yet this need burned at her. The girl fell into the water, taking in giant gulps with her cupped hands.  
A twig snapped. Amilia looked up, allowing large drops of water to run down her face. They hung at her chin a moment before plunging back into the stream. The water in her still hands began seeping out as her body went numb. A tearful laugh rang through the air and with renewed vigor, the girl lunged into the arms of Vincent.

After hours of being carried once more onto the road, Amilia broke down sobbing. Vincent hugged her tightly, closing his eyes. He stroked her hair and rubbed her back. The girl straightened her posture and forced a thankful smile onto her lips.  
"Why are you alone, dear Amilia?" Vincent asked quietly.  
"My father left our home and I was out searching for him..." Amilia confessed her fears to the friend who embraced her again.  
"You do not need to worry. I'm here now," he whispered soothingly.  
Amilia pulled away and nodded, for the first time noticing a cross around his neck and a stake at his side. She thought for a moment and remembered her father speaking of a ranger hunting vampires. A new respect came upon the girl. She looked up and met the man's large brown eyes. Amilia leaned in, puckering her lips. Vincent pushed his finger to her lips and shook his head, brow furrowed.  
"Amilia...in current circumstances...I find this emotion slightly inappropriate. Please forgive me..." he spoke bluntly.  
Amilia grew hot and her face grew red. She averted her gaze, quickly, feeling scorned. Vincent took her hands and pulled her to him.  
"No, no...I did not mean to upset you..." Vincent amended, "I just think it would be best...if we kept our emotions out of the way of our logic for awhile... You are very attractive and I would love to court you... but as of the moment, we need to get you to safety."  
Amilia smiled, blushing out of her infatuation. Vincent kissed her on the cheek before standing. He pulled the girl to her feet as well and grabbed their belongings.  
"Shall we then?" Vincent asked holding out his free arm for the girl to take.  
Amilia giggled and nodded taking the offered support. Vincent led the girl on down the dirt road. The two walked on for tireless hours, chatting idly. The more they spoke, the more in love Amilia became. Finally, they reached a village. Vincent stopped and turned to Amilia. He allowed their belongings to fall from his shoulders. With one, swift move, he pulled Amilia close to him and kissed her.


	5. Chapter V:

Fang Chapter 5:

Tyreth opened the warped door and glanced out. He could see the tree, perfectly, from the vacant church. (I think this was a cottage before...if so...bear with me. It's a church now. :p) It was taller than he had originally thought, with many gnarled branches. The day was waning away and the vampire could feel the nightly strength returning to him.  
As his vision cleared, he realized, he could not see Amilia in the tree. Immediate horror ran through his cold veins. Tyreth scanned the field and forest, yet saw no trace of the girl. The boy ignorantly dashed out into the sunset's light. The warm rays covered his body almost instantly. Tyreth cried out in anguish, diving back into the shade of the cottage. His minor wounds sealed to his avail.  
As Tyreth stood, he inspected the damage the rays had caused. Relief swept over him as he realized there was no lasting infliction. The young vampire looked out the window from where he stood, unwilling to traverse closer until the night was black.  
Tyreth crossed the trashed house and stood in the darkest corner. He let out a sigh, crouching down. Slowly, he closed his eyes and listened to the steady breathing, carefully. His hearing sharpened and remnants of a conversation returned to him. He could barely make out any words so he didn't bother concentrating.  
The song from Amilia's trinket rang back in the vampire's head. He recalled hearing it before but couldn't place its origin. Slowly, a flood of memories shrouded his mind. The song caused him to feel warm and sad all at once. It was a feeling brought on by nostalgia. A memory froze in his mind, suddenly.  
A woman sat on the bedside nearest to Tyreth's head. She saw his tears but did not chastise him as the others would. Her hand caressed his small round face, lovingly. He sniffled, closing his large blue eyes. The woman began humming the tune... It filled Young Tyreth with warmth...  
Tyreth opened his eyes and the memory was gone. Tears ran down his cheeks and dripped onto his knees of which he'd pulled up close to his chest. His eyes had gone red with the display of emotion.  
Dracula had beaten him for not eating a child his age. Under the refusal, Tyreth had received no supper and was sent to bed weakened. His mother had come in and sang to him. (If that is the improper tense...I apologize...it sounds wrong to me...but nothing really sounds right in that sentence.) He could not remember how old he'd been but it had been quite a long while ago. He had been restricted to his room for years, feeling forgotten by all, except her. One day, she stopped coming... he'd never seen her since.  
Tyreth's eyes cooled and returned to their icy hue. He stood, catching glimpse of the moon in the window. The boy realized he was at full strength and his burns were no longer present. He exited the house and restarted the search for Amilia.

In the Austrian castle, Ska sat in his tower overlooking the Mountainside. He felt unnaturally cold for a nightbeast and it frightened him. Glancing up at the clock, he saw that it would soon be 23 hours into the day. The old man returned his attention to the night sky.  
The carriage below had not altered in any state. It did not move or shift, as would have been natural. The horses, despite their fatigue and hunger, remained stationed where they were. No one had entered the castle, no one had exited the castle. Everything was still... A revolt was once more on the horizon, as Ska could smell it.

Dracula paced in the catacombs alone. He could feel death, among his people, nearing, and it truly worried him. If Tyreth did not succeed the Vampire Coven would be doomed. Dracula closed his cold, red eyes and exhaled.  
The elders had suggested he flee to England or China, but the man would not have it. He was no coward and would not abandon the sect in such a way. There had to be an alternate solution...  
Everyday, the world he'd ruled for centuries was becoming more and more populated with "holy-men" and Slayers of the Damned. The vampiric race was thinning and soon would be no more.  
Dracula feared this, but above all, he feared the Graves family. 29 years ago, when Nathan had been 18, (Four years after Tyreth's birth) Dracula had been sealed in his Coffin. Dracula escaped 26 years later, with the help of a crazed human ruling the Worshippers of Chaos cult. He knew, then, that he would not always be lucky. These thoughts burned at the soulless man.  
Amilia was young and very womanish, but she held the power of child bearing. Dracula knew, just one son, could bring the entire vampiric civilization to its demise. Amilia was quite dangerous, despite her gender.  
"Dracula," a voice called out.  
Amon stepped into the catacombs and bowed slightly. Dracula watched her quietly from the shadows where he stood. He was forced into displaying bravery, as her presence demanded it. Amon stood from her bow and cleared her throat.  
"We have prepared to attack the carriage..." she stated, "Do we have your approval?"  
"Proceed, Amon... instruct them to bring the prisoners to me..."  
"Yessir," Amon said exiting the tomb.  
Dracula closed his eyes. He'd already lost so many to the Vampire Slayers. He was ashamed... he was not as strong as he had once been, nor was he at his full strength.

Amilia drank the tea, graciously. She had not been warm, in what seemed months of travel. Her feet were still quite sore. None the less she was grateful for the bath, food, and shelter. One of the maids had even given her a gown to wear, although, improper before Vincent, it was all she had.  
Vincent drank warming mead, while watching Amilia in the candle light. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes glowing. He had stripped out of the traditional leather of his occupation, into a nice cotton tunic. The man cleared his throat, stretching back. "Where would you feel most comfortable to rest, dearest Amilia?" Vincent asked.  
"Oh, where ever... I do not want to be a burden."  
Vincent laughed. Amilia was charmed by it. She smiled watching him as well. He was more laid back now than he had been. He beckoned to a maid, who obeyed the call, instantly.  
"Milord?" she bowed.  
"Please, take Amilia to her room. She must be quite exhausted," Vincent instructed.  
"Oh, but I am not. I would like to talk some more," Amilia replied, met with another charming laugh.  
"We will have time for conversation in the morrow. You need rest, as well as I."  
Amilia nodded and followed the maid. The skinny dark woman led the girl up a stairwell and down a hall. She pointed to a door and turned to Amilia.  
"If you need milord, he slumbers there," she stated in an unsure voice.  
The maid turned to her left and pushed the white door open. She stepped inside and with the candle she held, lit three more for Amilia. The woman stood in the doorway watching Amilia for a moment. The girl was, again, very thankful.  
The room was quite nice. Guests in the household were treated very well. The bed was quite comfortable. There was a large bay window and a small white vanity. On it sat a photograph of Vincent, a woman, and an infant. Amilia picked it up for a closer look and bowed her head in knowing.  
"Vampires," the maid replied to the unasked question, "Took her and the babe in the late night. He was badly wounded... I'm sure you've seen the scar. This was their room... he loved her so dearly... it was a shame... He still misses her."  
"How long ago was it?" Amilia asked.  
"Seven years," the maid said.  
Amilia replaced the picture and took one more look around the room. It was beautiful. The window intrigued the girl most. The night was very black and there was no moon, stars, or any sort of light. Amilia returned her gaze to the maid. The woman had a far off forlorn gaze.  
"21 is such a young age to lose your beloved ones..." she mused quietly.  
The maid caught Amilia's eye and blushed. She smiled shyly, before closing the door. Amilia sat on the well cushioned bed. Sleep overtook the girl almost as soon as she lay down. Thoughts of Vincent warmed her heart. Suddenly, the terrifying garnet eyes flashed in Amilia's mind. They cooled and there stood the vampire. He didn't attempt to harm the girl... he just stood and watched. Amilia began to feel at ease. She slept quite peacefully.  
Tyreth stood anxiously in a church's tower. He looked down into the dark streets. Drunken men chased around ladies of the night. A scrawny dog lay dying in, what seemed to be, alcoholic bile. The great Tyreth saw all. A spider crossed the road, only to be stomped on by a drunken man in his pursuit. A mouse sat nipping at the dog; dead now. The fleas on both animals swarmed and jumped. Tyreth grimaced, averting his attention.  
A fly buzzed directly into a man's mouth, who lay unconsciously intoxicated in the street. A fight, among the women's laughing and men's cooing, rang into Tyreth's pointed ears. He turned slightly and watched as a bartender threw the feuding men out. They continued their brawl in the street.  
"Look Betty," a drunk gurgled.  
"My name's Sue," the prostitute laughed.  
"Well, yer Betty t'night," the man snapped, "We can't go t'my house... M'wifezzzz there. D'ya got a place?"  
The woman laughed, entirely too loudly, and nodded. Tyreth bowed his head and sighed. The humans, he loved, were just as crooked as any other species. It sickened him. The master had told him about a war in the New World, where brothers were killing brothers... sons killing fathers, family against one another. Tyreth was bothered enough by murder among the human race... but THAT war was truly stomach churning.  
"Sickening, is it not?"  
Tyreth spun around to see Zula standing before him. She was an elder in the counsel and very wise. He respected her, knowing she had a bit of a heart for the human race as well. Zula smiled, leaning casually against the door frame.  
"...And what is young Tyreth doing here?" she asked, her eyes narrowing.  
"Amilia escaped me..." Tyreth confessed, "I thought I may find her here."  
"Tyreth!" Zula snapped, eyes flashing red now, "Amilia is a woman of high standard! She would not be traversing amongst the night with the likes of those humans and us, Vampires! Either you are NOT as intelligent as I had thought or you're lying!"  
Tyreth closed his eyes and bowed his head. He was lying. He could find Amilia quite easily, if he wanted... but he couldn't kill her... or convert her. For this, he had banished himself from the castle. Zula pushed herself off of the frame and walked to the window, past Tyreth. She awaited his response.  
"Amilia didn't do anything..." Tyreth whispered, " I can't kill her..."  
"Then you're a coward."  
"I won't return..."  
"Cowardice is punishable by death!"  
"I SAID I won't return!"  
"Your father would be dismayed," Zula hissed stepping out of the window.  
Tyreth was shot with pain. He had truly tried over and over to make his father proud... but he wasn't like the sect. He had no thirst for blood and no want to cause human suffering. He hated it all... but loved his father greatly, despite their differences.  
Zula was in the street below, scanning the thinning crowd of drunks. Tyreth knew the look on her face. She was preparing to feed. Her fangs grew as her pupils shrank into tiny slits. A moment flashed and she ripped ravenously at the veiny neck. Screams filled the air. Zula and the man disappeared. Tyreth bowed his head, closing his eyes. There was a thump behind the boy. He opened his eyes and turned to see the woman holding a limp corpse. Its head hung loosely, as for most of the neck was missing.  
"Dammit!" Tyreth cried out, turning away, "Why'd you bring THAT in here?!"  
"I am leaving... but I forgot to give this to you," Zula said tossing a letter down at the younger vampire's feet.  
Tyreth avoided her blood stained face and the bleeding man she held. The rusted smell filled his cold lungs and his stomach growled. Zula sneered, turning to exit. She was gone within moments.  
Tyreth knew it was healthier to feed upon human, but he would NOT do it. Killing an occasional sheep or cow did not consist of murder. Zula had only been doing what was needed to survive. Her regard for human life did not divert her need to feed. Tyreth did not disrespect her, he was only upset by the display she'd made before him. It had been messier than was necessary. Zula's philosophy on drunks and prostitutes constituted as her civic duty in ridding the world of their sinful and evil ways.  
Tyreth shook the thoughts away, before bending down for the letter. He instantly recognized Dracula's signature and fear overcame him. He opened the letter and read it.  
The Vernal Equinox was marked with a Harvest Moon. It had already come and gone. The preparations for the sacrifice had not been made for Dracula in time, due to Tyreth's tardiness. The Master was not at full strength and would have to wait yet another year. Arrangements could be made for the full moon following the Autumnal Equinox, it was scheduled to be eclipsed and was quite untraditional. Amilia Graves had been chosen as the sacrifice. Tyreth was no longer to persuade or kill her. He was, instead, to bring her to Dracula in wait.  
The Young Vampire had until Fall. Dracula would have preferred to wait, but as a precaution to the Slayer's discovering the plot, he had to be prepared for the "Blood Rite Ritual" at any opportune moment.- Tyreth folded the letter and placed it in his vest. He let out a sigh and turned to the moonless night. "Amilia..." he whispered, closing his eyes.  
Tyreth's heard sank with her name. He had promised Dracula he would not fail... Amilia had to be captured and, by no other than him. Tyreth leapt into the night, as he did every night, in search for food.  
The search had been both quick and painless for both Tyreth and the cow he'd fed upon. He wiped his mouth clean and turned to look up at the clouds. Day would break soon and he'd yet to come up with any sort of alternative. Amilia had his word he'd not harm her, and by technicalities, he would not. Yet he'd be leading her to her death and the thought sickened him.  
Birds began to chirp and Tyreth knew his time was long gone. He'd sat and pondered far too long and now the sun had breached the horizon. A strangled cry escaped the boy and he ran. Ran with all his might and strength, to safety. The meadow was flat and bare. There were very few trees and the ones in existence did not have pre-existing knot holes  
Tears blotted out his view causing Tyreth to stumble over roots and rocks. The strength in his body began to wane. He found himself screaming at the light.  
Tyreth dove into the water and under the bridge, he'd come across. The sun rose and Tyreth cringed. He was safe below the bridge. He crouched in the water and closed his eyes trembling all over. Amilia came to mind. She was frightened... but strong; trusting. Tyreth slept.

Amilia opened her eyes and sat up in the soft bed. A dress was folded neatly at the foot of her bed. It was maroon with gold and white hems. Amilia quickly dressed wondering as to where such and elegant dress had come from. She opened the door and crept out, deciding to explore a bit.  
Vincent was at the table reading. Upon catching sight of Amilia, he stood. Amilia smiled and curtsied. He glanced at the dress and blushed, bowing his head. Amilia suddenly felt quite exposed.  
"Do you like the dress?" he asked.  
"Oh yes, it is quite lovely."  
"Yes..." Vincent said thoughtfully, "It was Julia's."  
Amilia knew now, the dress'(s?) She felt more exposed at this moment and closed her eyes. Vincent went back to his reading. Amilia opened her eyes and sat across from him at the large table.  
"Do you mind me wearing it?" Amilia asked quietly.  
"No! No, dear Amilia!" Vincent laughed out, "I am the one who suggested it."  
Amilia smiled. The maid entered the dining room and placed a bowl before both Amilia and Vincent. She quickly left the room and returned with sugar, honey and two cups of tea. Vincent thanked and dismissed the woman. He did not pray, but went directly to eating. Amilia was surprised, but followed suit.  
"Tell me about yourself, Amilia," Vincent said.  
Amilia swallowed her mouthful of porridge and sipped at the tea before her. She didn't really know what the man expected to hear. She was her father's daughter. A girl raised under prayers and religion. A girl who knew to hate the undead.  
She didn't know a lot about what her father had done before he'd met her mother. She DID know that it had stopped after her birth. She had high suspicions that something strange was stirring within him...  
"I don't know what to say," Amilia admitted.  
"What do you like? What do you dislike?" Vincent prodded.  
Amilia was thoughtful for another moment. She'd never really thought about these things before. Her father had always encouraged her hobbies, yet the absence of a mother had made them all boring to her. Her goal in life was to please her father. She loved him dearly and would to anything to make him proud. Lately, though, she was angry with him. He had been hiding something and left without informing her. She was worried about him. And very angry!  
"My father," Amilia stated bluntly.  
"Excuse me?" Vincent eyed her, clearly confused.  
"I love my father... I live to serve him... but I very much dislike his behavior lately!" Amilia explained.  
Vincent laughed. Amilia was acting as though she, herself, were the parent and her father the child. She spoke of reprimanding him and it amused Vincent. He'd never seen such a sight as a protective daughter. At least not so much as Amilia was being.  
Vincent thought of his own parents. They'd passed away when he was quite young. He'd been raised by an aunt and she'd been murdered on his 19th birthday. He met Julia not long after, and she'd taken on the task of caring for him. He had maids, yet no one had truly been there proceeding the deaths that haunted his living.  
"May I ask... how did it happen?" Amilia asked.  
Vincent was caught off guard. He closed his eyes and thought back, recalling that dreadful night. Amilia listened, silently...  
Vincent kissed Lily and turned to his beautiful wife. They kissed and he exited the room. Julia turned to the infant and smiled at its sleeping body. Vincent closed door softly and walked towards his own room.  
He was inches before the door when a crash echoed the mansion. A scream filled the silence thereafter. Vincent rushed back and threw the door open. Lily hung, limply from the fangs of a beast in a human's body and Julia lay on the floor bleeding by the empty bloodstained crib.  
"NO!" Vincent cried, lunging for his child.  
The vampire stepped away, laughing out. The room was filled with the undead demons. They crawled from the walls and ceiling down to the blood. Vincent screamed. He spun around gather in the sight. A petite vampiric woman struck his face with her long nails, knocking the man back. Vincent turned to Julia, knowing his beloved Lily was beyond rescue, and fell to his knees, realizing he was too late.  
The largest vampire, wearing all black leather, brought his arm down onto Vincent's head, knocking the young man out.  
"When I came to, both of them were gone... The room was a disaster... blood, tears, everything destroyed," Vincent concluded wiping the reminiscent of tears away.  
"I'm... so sorry," Amilia whispered.  
Vincent let out a long sigh. He seemed almost relieved. The man suddenly shut his book and stood smiling. Amilia also smiled, unable to finish her food. Vincent had not touched his at all.  
"Let's go for a walk," he stated cheerfully.  
"Alright," Amilia agreed.  
The maid entered, almost as if on cue, and cleared away the morning dishes. Vincent approached Amilia and held out his arm. Amilia took it and the two exited the mansion.

Nathaniel Graves had returned to an empty household. Maids and guards could not tell him Amilia's whereabouts. The man grew fearful. He did not stay long at all. Almost as soon as he'd returned he'd left again. He was determined to find his daughter, Amilia. The vampires had stated an interest in wanting her... not him.  
The horse Nathan rode was the fastest he owned. He had no time to preen the team or prepare the carriage. Such things would have taken too much time and would only be slow in travel. He may have not been in his youth but he was not too old to ride.  
The forest was large, and a solo search for the girl would take days. Maybe even longer, time of which the man did not have. So instead of going to the forest, he rode on to town. His daughter was precious to him... he would give anything away to have her returned to safety ensuring a large group of searchers.  
A man in his mid sixties was the first person Nathan came across. He explained the situation and the man agreed. Within moments a third of the town knew, and after an hour everyone was aware; half were willing to search without substantial pay. Nathan led the group of willing men, able children, and sympathetic but hearty women to the forest. The search began. (dies a little on the inside)

Amilia was unaware of her father's worry. She was in her own realm at this point. Vincent was talking to her of very fascinating things, such as politics, or religion. She'd never heard of views that differed from her father's. He was a smart man, indeed.  
They stood on a bridge, silently. Amilia leaned over to look at the creek below. She saw a school of tiny black fish and larger gold ones. A frog chirped before diving in. Vincent stood beside the girl watching her, in all her beauty. He smiled upon catching her eye.  
"Vincent," Amilia sighed dreamily.  
"We can watch the sun set from here," he said taking her hand in his.  
Amilia nodded, and the two sat in the bench. The sun hung low in the sky and would soon be setting. Amilia leaned closer to Vincent, feeling his warmth against her chilled skin. Vincent wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes, thinking back on Julia. He had loved his late wife. Amilia was a lovely and very attractive girl... She was still young.  
"Vincent," Amilia whispered, startling his thoughts, "Tell me, why aren't you married yet?"  
Vincent opened his eyes and turned to see the girl staring at him through her bangs. He swept them out of her face and gazed down into the ocean of blue. Amilia did not look away, like she usually did... Vincent smiled, awkwardly and answered.  
"I'm a ranger, dear Amilia... I am rarely home... and find no time for courting women..." Vincent said looking away, "I loved my wife dearly... and always will."  
Amilia knew his love for Julia could never be replaced by her. She pulled away, feeling bad for herself. Vincent did not protest, he only continued to stare at the sinking haze of orange and pink. Suddenly Amilia felt cold and non-existent in the mysterious world of Vincent. She, too, looked away.  
"I did not mean anything by it..." Amilia whispered.  
"I know," Vincent said, "I don't want anything else happening to my life... bringing a woman into my world is a poor decision..."  
Vincent stood and walked to the edge of the bridge. He thought for a moment before turning back to Amilia. She looked past him, angrily, for asking.  
"I'm going on a short walk... enjoy the view... I'll return shortly," Vincent said disappearing into the woods.  
Amilia bowed her head and began to weep softly. She was so utterly humiliated. She had not intended to throw herself at the man... but she had, and he'd rejected her. Large tears fell onto the wooden bridge. Her eyes looked even more like an ocean now then they had before. Quickly, she wiped them away, realizing the sun was all but barely gone.  
Amilia watched as the last drop of direct sunlight vanished below the purple hill. The sky remained a hazy pink and orange. It was quite beautiful, despite the sour feeling still built up in her chest. More tears fell.  
The vampire leapt casually onto the railing of the bridge from below, startling Amilia. She was tempted to scream, knowing that doing so would bring Vincent back. She held the gasp in and stared. Tyreth held his finger to his lips and crouched on the railing.  
"Please, don't scream..." Tyreth whispered, "I heard you crying... I was concerned..."  
Amilia stared. Her head went light and she thought she might faint. She did not. Tyreth didn't frighten her nearly so much... but still gave a foreboding sense.  
"Who ARE you?" Amilia found herself asking.  
Tyreth remained still. He thought for a long moment. There was no sense in lying to the girl... but something about his identity made him uneasy. Tyreth, Prince of the Underworld, Son to the King of the Damned... Lord of Darkness, Heir to the Vampiric Throne. Tyreth glanced up, finding himself inches from Amilia.  
The girl stared into his blue eyes. They truly seemed to glow. She could see tiny red dots in them. She smiled. Tyreth knew she was no longer afraid of him. He could feel the warmth her skin produced. An answer finally came to him.  
"My name is Tyreth," the young vampire said, "That's all you truly wanted to know... right?"  
"Are you dead?"  
"You can say that..."  
Amilia placed her hand on Tyreth's cheek. He was cold, but it was not an unnatural cold, it was human-like. Amilia smiled, again. Tyreth recoiled.  
"You aren't so cold..." Amilia whispered.  
Tyreth looked up and into the equally as blue eyes. He leaned back into the soft touch, blushing. Tyreth was quite unaccustomed to the sweet affection. He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh. Amilia pulled away.  
"My heart beats," Tyreth mused, more to himself than to Amilia, "It is just much slower than yours."  
"You're very mysterious, Tyreth," Amilia said, "I'd like to learn more about you. It fascinates me... Why are you so kind?"  
Tyreth did not answer the question. He folded his feet below himself and sat upon them. Amilia did not move away from him at all. She was truly unafraid. Tyreth smiled, slightly, before remembering his duty to his Master. Amilia was being very trusting... but guilt wouldn't permit asking.  
"Tyreth..." Amilia sighed, "Why won't you speak to me?"  
"I'm afraid," Tyreth admitted.  
Amilia cocked a brow and stared. Tyreth had often dreamt of the stake a man would plunge into his heart. He knew it wasn't a realistic dream. He'd never known of anyone to whom that had happened. The only way for it to work, would be to catch the vampire in slumber. Amilia was still confused at the vampire's honesty.  
"I don't much fancy that cross at your neck..." Tyreth mumbled glancing away.  
"I can't take it off... My father made sure of that..."  
Tyreth had not known this. He thought for a moment and realization overcame him. No one could hurt Amilia in their natural ways. They'd be forced into breaking laws, which were highest in Dracula's book. A vampire would never fathom breaking one of Dracula's laws. Even the youngest bat-pip was taught early on. Tyreth smiled.  
"Then you're safe."  
Amilia touched the necklace. It had never occurred to her of its importance. Her father had worn it the fateful day 29 years ago when he sealed Dracula. He'd given it to Amilia when she was born and welded the clasps together so she could never lose it.  
"I suppose so..." Amilia said.  
"A vampire wouldn't dream of breaking a law..." Tyreth replied.  
"Law?"  
"It's the moralistic values... We can't kill humans in an unnatural way..."  
"And what be unnatural?"  
"Weapons, Amilia... We can only use our physical, mental, or spiritual strength," Tyreth said, "No vampire can touch you for that reason... they'd have to remove the necklace first."  
Amilia was puzzled furthermore. Tyreth had touched her on multiple occasions. He was a vampire... wasn't he? Tyreth saw the curious look on the girl and made quick to answer before she became more so confused.  
"Your neck, Amilia... they go for the neck... they won't look twice before striking... they'll just go for the neck..." Tyreth said thankful he'd seen the jewelry and didn't fancy the human taste, "they won't kill you... because they can't drink your blood. If your heart is stopped, you're not suitable to feed upon and then you'd be useless."  
Amilia was forever grateful to her father. He was a very brave and intelligent man. Tyreth shifted his weight awkwardly, still perched upon the railing. Amilia brought her face close to his. He stared deep into her eyes, leaning away. Amilia was remarkably calm. It put Tyreth on edge.  
"Take me with you, Tyreth... I want to see what your world is like..." Amilia whispered, "Every night you get to visit mine... it's not every day that a human gets to see yours... especially a woman."  
"You'd be surprised..." Tyreth responded, thinking of all the women seduced, raped, and converted, "Amilia... are you sure?"  
"I'm very curious..." Amilia breathed heavily upon the man and he believed she was seducing him, "Please..."  
"Very well..." Tyreth sighed, closing his eyes.  
He did not want to take the girl. She was creating a problem within the war he battled. Dracula asked for her... here she was throwing herself into the Lord of Darkness's hands. Tyreth shuttered. He opened his eyes. Amilia wasn't even PRETENDING to be afraid. She could at least pretend... Perhaps everything would be okay...  
"Amilia...promise that you will not leave my sight."  
"I promise," Amilia said hastily.  
Tyreth stood and held out his hand for Amilia. She took it and he pulled her onto the railing. Amilia looked up at Tyreth and leaned into him.  
"I trust you..." She whispered.  
Tyreth felt himself hesitate. He was glad, but worry swept over him. He was unsure if he trusted himself... How could he ask a human to?  
Amilia closed her eyes and fell limply against the boy. He realized how tired she was. Quickly, he lifted her into a fetal position in his arms and carried her in flight. The castle was a few miles South East. The sun would be rising soon, so Tyreth was in haste.


	6. Chapter VI:

Chapter 6:

Nathaniel rode into town early in the morning. It had been over 30 hours and Amilia had not been found. The aging man slipped off of the horse and lay motionless in the dirt. Birds flew by overhead and the gentle beast grunted at his master, nuzzling the man's head. He patted it and wearily pulled himself up.  
A dirt stained, ragged old wench waddled toward Nathan. He turned to her and smiled gratefully. The woman looked into his pale eyes. They were red rimmed and wetting again. She could see the visible lump growing in his throat. Gravely, she placed a hand on his broad shoulder.  
"I'm sorry, Graves," she said.  
"She's all I have..." Nathan choked out.  
The woman nodded, thinking of her own children. Nathan wiped away the new stream of tears, smudging dirt across his cheeks. He took a deep, settling breath, before speaking again.  
"I can't give up," he said.  
"No, and neither will we..." the woman motioned to the searchers as they returned, "We'll rest a bit before continuing."  
Nathaniel agreed, and the woman instructed her children to tend to his horse. She took the man by the arm and led him into her cottage.  
A very elderly man lay dying in bed. Nathan felt a pang of guilt. The woman's father needed her, yet she was out searching for Amilia. Nathan was instructed to sit, so he did. Greta, the old woman, began a pot of tea. Nathan found himself watching the clock tick away. Its pendulum swayed back and forth in a hypnotic pattern. The old man on the cot coughed. Greta tended to him. Nathan drank tea... and slowly became dizzy. The tea sloshed sideways and Nathan fell unconscious.

(This part will soon be revised...it sucks.)

At last, another petition had risen from hell and been brought to Dracula. The plea for his return was once more signed, in blood, all the names of men and women begging to join the sect. Long ago, a cult had been born just after the first Vampire Killers had sealed Dracula away... it had been called the "Worshippers of Chaos." Every so often, the cult would rise up and search for their master, Dracula, and free him from the tomb. More often than not, the cult would go unnoticed by society and those who gave their lives to restoring peace, yet they were always trying to sacrifice themselves to those they worshipped: vampires. Dracula despised the cult members more and more... They were glory seeking peasants, and sickening eyesores to the Lord of Darkness. Tyreth knew very little of the cult. He had never been exposed to them leaving him with little experience or knowledge in that realm of his master's existence.  
Dracula stared down at the men who had been brought before him. They trembled with excitement and stared up at the vampire on their hands and knees. Dracula sneered, crossing his leg and leaning back into his throne. They grinned.  
"Well?" Dracula began, "What do you ask?"  
"To join your kind, you beautiful man!-Beast...sir...-my lord... my wonderful, wonderful lord!" the one in the center said.  
Dracula rolled his eyes. The men continued to gravel, each in his own way. One man even went as far as to slit his wrist and allow Dracula to drink. It was sickening... and Dracula refused. He allowed them to kiss his hands and feet as they chose. Ahren entered, halting this prelude.  
"Master," he bowed, "Tyreth has returned... the wench is with him..."  
"Amilia..." Dracula mused, "Yes, bring them in."  
He paused and glanced down at the men below him. They were filth in the human world and would never amount to anything. Their sick fantasies of glore were disturbing Dracula. He kicked them away and glared down upon them.  
"Why do you wish to join the damned?!" Dracula demanded.  
The men shrank away, trembling. They did not answer. Dracula stood. His eyes were red with anger.  
"Did you think I would help you in some way?! Did you believe it to be fun?! I choose who joins me!! They do NOT choose me! Now begone you filth! Begone or die as you are!" Dracula raged, spitting upon them his hurtful words.  
The men scrambled to their feet and rushed away sobbing like the infants their mothers had born. Dracula turned once more to Ahren, who was a bit shaken from the ejaculation. He, choked by the cowardice feeling, cleared his throat.  
"Master?"  
"Those humans bore me! I tire of their pleas for help! I wish to be left alone! They think it I owe them for their resurrections..! How dare they be so bold! I owe them nothing! Remember that, Ahren... now go! Bring to me Amilia Graves!"

Tyreth paced nervously back and forth in his chamber. Amilia lay unconscious in his coffin. He could hear the whispers her presence had brought. She was unaware of the decision she'd made. Tyreth feared the worst.  
He sat in his window and looked down at the carriage. Five men rushed out to it. Tyreth noticed the cross was a strange and foreign signet. Dracula knew it well, as a symbol of the Worshippers of Chaos. It was their promise to the Lord of Darkness.  
The carriage rode off and Tyreth let out a dragging sigh. With the visitors gone, his master's attention would revolve around Amilia. Her presence meant the  
Blood Rite Ritual would soon commence... and the girl, she, of course, was the sacrifice.  
"Tyreth!" Ska charged through the batpups chamber door, interrupting the young vampire's thoughts.  
"What?!" Tyreth exclaimed, spinning around to face the old decroded man.  
Ska grabbed his creator's arm and clung to him, full of fear. Tyreth attempted to free himself of the grasp, but it was to no avail, Ska wouldn't budge.  
"The master, Dracula... he wishes to see the girl... NOW."  
"No," Tyreth resisted, "He can't... she's still sleeping..."  
"NOW, Tyreth..." Ska sighed, "Before it's too late and he grows angrier than he already is."  
"Why is he mad?"  
Ska shrugged and released the boy's arm. The elderly man waddled out of the room, leaving Tyreth to his solitude. The young vampire turned to the girl in her rest. Slowly, he approached her.  
"Amilia," Tyreth whispered, "It's time to wake up."  
Amilia groaned and her brow furrowed. She lifted her hand and brushed it against her cheek in an infancy sort of way. Tyreth was mildly amused by this and half expected to see the girl suck her thumb. She brushed away her bangs and mumbled something incoherently.  
"Amilia..." Tyreth cooed, grinning now.  
"Ty...reth..."Amilia grumbled.  
The vampire had never been this close to a human for so long before. Their sleeping patterns much differed from his own. When he slept, he was on edge and any slight movement woke him. There was the constant fear of a stake through the heart in his slumber. Humans seemed peaceful and ignorant to all of the potential dangers.  
Tyreth leaned in and stared closely at the alien form. Her eyes fluttered open and she sat up, surprising the boy. Tyreth watched Amilia for a moment as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. A yawn escaped her and she stretched. Tyreth smiled, once more.  
"Hello," Amilia said cheerily.  
Tyreth had expected her to forget where she was and to be frightened. She had not...and was not. Amilia was very aware of her surroundings and she recognized him as well. She was still cool tempered and calm.  
"Hello," Tyreth responded.  
Amilia sat, content. Tyreth stared. An awkward tension shrouded young Amilia. She wasn't entirely sure she could communicate with the vampire anymore. She felt very out of place and embarrassed.  
"We need to go..." Tyreth finally said, remembering his duty.  
He held out his hand and helped the girl from the coffin. She seemed remarkably unbothered by the fact that she had slept in Tyreth's resting bed. Amilia held onto Tyreth as he led her away from the lone coffin. He stopped and turned to her.  
"You're not scared?"  
"No," Amilia admitted, "I know a lot more than you think... and ...you're friendly."  
Tyreth laughed out, surprising Amilia. He bit down on his tongue to keep himself quiet. Amilia smiled and Tyreth looked away. Shame and guilt had been building up within him.  
"I'm not friendly," Tyreth replied.  
The vampire took Amilia by the arm and led her out into the hall. It was dark and took Amilia a moment for her eyes to adjust. Tyreth held onto Amilia tightly. She looked around and let in the beauty of the castle. The floor was carpeted in red and gold hemming. The walls were stone and painted with large murals. Candles lit the corridors and graced the rooms. There were few windows.  
Vampires, ghouls, and werebeasts were all leery of the girl, but would not approach her with Tyreth escorting her. Tyreth opened a door and lead Amilia into a large Cathedral.  
Amilia paused and stared at the large mural on the ceiling. It was of a cherubim and seraphim standing on clouds. The ceiling had been deeply gashed with claw marks and rough demons were sketched about the mural. It gave the girl an eerie feeling and foreboding sense.  
A ghoul stared down at her from the chandelier. It cackled as Tyreth turned to pull Amilia form the room. Dracula stood before them, glaring down at his pupil. Amilia turned to face the beast. A strangled cry escaped her throat and she fell limply against Tyreth. Dracula sneered, concealing the fangish smile that had frightened the girl. Tyreth carried Amilia after Dracula, who beckoned to them.  
"She's lovely," Dracula mused, sitting in his throne.  
Tyreth cradled Amilia against him, trying to hide her from his blood thirsty master. Dracula snatched the girl from Tyreth and rested her in his lap. Tyreth watched protectively over the girl, a deep tension building in him.  
"I commend you, my son. Well done."  
Tyreth felt a sudden wave of sick. He turned away, tears, a vampire should not shed, fell from his eyes. He let out an audible choke before calming. Dracula glared at the young vampire.  
"Is something wrong, Tyreth?" he snarled, through gritted teeth.  
"Please...choose someone else. Not her," Tyreth sobbed, "She's innocent!"  
"Impudent boy, you fail me. Leave now and disgrace us no more! Weak, disgusting-muck!" Dracula growled.  
(Guess what? You are now in the second notebook. )  
"I refuse to leave, until you assure me of her safety..." Tyreth replied, trembling all over with fear.  
"You defy me?!"  
"Yes!" the boy screamed, "I defy you! I will continue to do so as well!"  
"You are either very brave or very stupid," Dracula hissed, "Take your pet!"  
Dracula threw Amilia into Tyreth's arms. The young vampire hugged her closely, sinking to his knees. He closed his eyes, still trembling. Dracula stood and the door in the back opened.  
"You may have her until the Ritual, boy. Now, begone!"  
Tyreth stood and rushed from the room, Amilia in his arms. Dracula sat and pressed a finger to his temple. He almost felt sad for Tyreth. The batpup was still searching for his place of acceptance. Dracula closed his eyes and exhaled deeply.  
"Tyreth, you must you, of all other, defy me?"  
The question, Dracula found, rose quite often. Ahren walked in holding a night wench. Dracula stared at her for a moment. Ahren bowed, "Your supper, Milord." The young batpup exited, shutting the doors behind him. The prostitute fell to her knees screaming madly. Dracula descended upon her. He knelt down beside her and caressed her face. She whimpered turning away.  
"Do not be afraid, Rebecca," he seduced, drawing the woman to him, "I know all about your pains...and sorrows. I can take them away."  
The woman smiled weakly, closing her eyes. Dracula pushed the auburn hair away from her neck, tangling his fingers in it. He kissed her neck, inhaling deeply.  
"Will it hurt?" Rebecca asked.  
"No, my love, never."  
Dracula bit deeply into the woman's neck and she fell back. He ran his hands up her spine, pushing her closer to him. She grew numb and faint, feeling sleepy. After only a moment Rebecca was limp. Dracula continued to feed.  
Tyreth had always been offended by the man's seductive ways. He found it wrong and manipulative... yet in the end, had to agree, it was more humane than torturing the human before feeding. Dracula was also very practiced in clean feeding. He did not make a mess, as most of the sect did. Tyreth had idealized the aspect, so as to not appear vulgar. Other's in the sect, they didn't care.

Tyreth held Amilia to him protectively, as he walked back to his chamber. She was quite light, not as if anything was heavy to him, which did not surprise him in the least. The sect watched, excitedly, at the boy. What he held intrigued them more than most anything. The human seemed quite pleasant, in her slumber. Tyreth half wished he could read her mind.  
Quickly, he locked himself into his room and placed Amilia in his bay window. He stared at the coffin, wondering if it had been comfortable to her. He knew it was not necessary for him to sleep so much, like it was for a human. He could go years without it... Tyreth, on the other hand, wanted to appear more human. He hated, with every ounce of him, what he was. Angrily, he shoved the coffin off of the table. It smashed to the stone floor, splintering into millions of pieces.  
Tyreth broke down and fell into a crouching position, sobbing. He clenched his teeth, scowling. His fists were bawled up and his arms, wrapped tightly around his legs, were large with the tense muscles. He thought strongly, but couldn't focus his mind on anything.  
Amilia opened her eyes and sat up. She looked out the window, realizing she was leaning over a small courtyard. Slowly, she turned to see the coffin, in shattered pieces, on the ground. Tyreth seemed to be hiding behind the table it had rested on causing the girl to giggle. She glanced around the room and absorbed its contents for the first time.  
In the corner rested a desk and wood chair. It was cluttered with papers and books. The walls were covered in shelves full of more books. The stone floor had a soft dark red rug and the window held very similar curtains. There was a mirror in the corner opposite of the desk. Amilia stood carefully and approached Tyreth, smiling.  
"What are you doing?" She asked.  
"Thinking," Tyreth grumbled wiping the tears away, before the girl could see.  
"About what?"  
Amilia knelt down beside the boy. Tyreth turned to her, his eyes sparkling. Amilia caught her breath in her throat and blushed slightly, looking down. Tyreth continued staring.  
"I don't know..." he finally said.  
"That's peculiar," Amilia accused.  
Tyreth cocked a smile. He stood quickly and smoothing jumped into a sitting position on the table. Amilia stood to even the distance between their faces. Tyreth was surprised by her reactions to him. They were not as they should have been.  
"Amilia," Tyreth asked cautiously, "Why don't you fear me like you do Master Dracula?"  
Amilia quickly evaluated the two in her head before responding, "You're gentle, sweet, and timid...he is not. He looked at me with monstrous hungry eyes!"  
Tyreth did not deny this. He had noticed the look Dracula had given her. It had been unnatural... it had been invasive. This caused the boy to scowl.  
"May I ask you-" Tyreth cut Amilia off with a raised hand.  
"Why did you come here? I should have not brought you, it's dangerous!" Tyreth exclaimed to himself.  
"I wanted to see it for myself," Amilia replied.  
"See what? Monsters killing your kind?!"  
"No, how you live..."  
"You would never know!" Tyreth snapped.  
"I can't experience it...but I can see it."  
Tyreth closed his eyes, tightly, for a moment. He squeezed the portion of his nose right between the eyes, as if to relieve a headache. Amilia bowed her head and turned away. Tyreth opened his eyes and bit his bottom lip.  
"Amilia, why do you want to see...?" he asked.  
"Oh, just curious, I suppose," the girl said cautiously.  
Tyreth found himself trembling. He looked away imagining all of the terrible things that could, or rather would, become of the girl if she stayed. A strange pain shot up into his chest. Slowly, he brought his hand up and groped at it.  
"What's wrong, Tyreth?"  
"I don't want you to get hurt."  
Amilia giggled, "I won't as long as you're here."  
Tyreth snapped his head in her direction. His eyes flashed red and a low grumbling noise formed in his hurting chest. Amilia backed away, fearfully.  
"I can't always be around!" the boy snapped.  
Amilia looked away. The girl beside him scooted closer, so that her arm hairs brushed against his cold skin. He quickly looked down at his arm and away. Amilia thought for a moment. She decided to drop the subject.  
"Let's talk about something else," she suggested.  
"Might as well... what would you like to discuss?"  
"You."  
Tyreth looked at Amilia. He stared deeply into her eyes. She did not look away, as she, herself, was accustomed to doing. Tyreth quickly looked away. Amilia was amazed at the speed and agility he was graced with.  
"How old are you?" Amilia prodded.  
Tyreth bit his lip again, before answering, "I'm 33."  
"Oh? You don't look it."  
"No, I don't," Tyreth admitted, "That's because my body isn't going to grow old and die, like yours."  
Amilia flinched at the statement before asking another question, "You said your heart was beating... doesn't that mean you will eventually die?"  
"I don't think so, eventually it will stop beating...but I will continue to live. Just like my father, the Master, and the council."  
"You're so mysterious to me... but I just don't know why."  
Tyreth smiled a half crooked smile. He thought to himself before chuckling, "Oh, I can think of a few reasons."  
Amilia nodded, smiling. She began to wonder whether or not she was dreaming. The girl brought her hand up to her arm and gave herself a quick pinch, "Ow!"  
Tyreth frowned, his eyes narrowing. They flashed red as he noticed the blood bruising the infliction. Amilia bowed her head and shook it slightly.  
"Why did you do that?" Tyreth demanded.  
"I thought maybe I was dreaming..."  
"Some dream," he sneered, "It's more like a nightmare."  
"I'm not scared."  
Tyreth narrowed his eyes again, "Liar."  
Amilia giggled sheepishly, bringing her hands up to cover her mouth. Tyreth didn't move. His face remained rigid. Amilia dropped her hands and coughed, slightly.  
"Maybe I am a tad bit frightened," Amilia admitted.  
"It's okay to be honest," Tyreth stated, "Besides, I know your emotions."  
"How?" the girl asked.  
"I can tell. It's like, I feel what you feel... I can hear your heart beat and smell the course of your blood."  
Amilia thought about that for a moment and decided it didn't bother her. She smiled at Tyreth and he returned the grin. Suddenly, he frowned, a distant look forming in his eyes.  
"I have to go..." Tyreth said, the distance reaching his tone as well.  
Amilia stepped away, allowing Tyreth to stand. He ran a hand through his black hair and shook his head. Slowly, he opened the door. The boy froze and turned back toward Amilia.  
"Lock the door and no one will enter. You should sleep as well. A deep slumber would do you some good."  
The boy exited, shutting the door behind him. Amilia, quickly, crossed the room and locked it, as Tyreth had instructed. She walked to the window and sat. In the courtyard, Tyreth stood. He waved at Amilia before turning. Another dark form greeted him and the two flew up, disappearing into the night...


	7. Chapter VII:

Fang Chapter 7

Amilia's disappearance had stirred up quite a commotion in the human world. Nathaniel had given nearly all of his belongings but that of his homestead in hopes of gaining help to find his beloved daughter.

Amy Threshborne, the pastor's daughter, had searched day and night, without rest, into exhaustion. Her mother, knowing the feelings to lose a child, having had eleven still born, miscarriages and three deaths due to illness, took up where her daughter left off. Franz Threshborne found that he was only capable of prayer.

Nathaniel's search party waned. More hope was lost and many presumed the girl to be dead. Only a few women still tramped through the forest with their sons. Men of the village had returned to their duties as fathers and businessmen. Nathan was more or less alone.

The man stood in a forest clearing. He ran his hand through his short silver hair and turned North. A woman stepped out in front of the weary and quickly aging man.

"Nathaniel," she began, "Don't you think it's time to give up?"

"Give up?" the man croaked, salty water invading his eyes, "On my only heir?"

"It's been a month already..." the woman continued, "We've had no sign that she's still alive, no trace of her anywhere."

Greta, who had taken a liking to Nathan, stepped forward. She had cared for the man in the village so he wouldn't have to return to the empty mansion. The haggard woman turned on the girl before the searchers.

"Be this how you treat your lord? Sir Graves has done only great to the country and what have you to repay him? What would you do had it been young Julie?" Greta preached.

"My Julie?" the girlish woman cooed, "She is but an infant!"

"And Amilia, a child!" Greta snapped, "We will not give up until we have found her!"

"Greta, it has been a month-" the man began again.

"And months more until we find her!"

The woman shot a glare at the crippling Nathaniel. She turned and walked away. Greta watched the woman as she returned to the village. The robust Greta scoffed and turned back to Nathan. He shuddered, closing his eyes. Large tears rolled down his cheeks.

"It's not over yet, Graves," Greta said touching his shoulder.

"What if she's right...?" Nathaniel whispered.

Greta bit back her fear and gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. Her gaze landed on the remaining faces of those willing to search. They were all looking at the ground, almost as if defeated. Greta sneered in disgust.

"Come now!" she chided, "We'll continue on until twilight before heading back... Rest well and return in the morning."

The people returned to their searching. Greta nodded to herself in approval and smiled. Nathaniel let out a defeated sigh. He brushed the tears from his puffing cheeks. Greta stood still and glanced at him sideways.

"Most of them won't return..." Nathan finally said, "They're giving up."

"Don't worry," Greta replied, "I'll have a talk with them."

"It won't do any good!" he hissed.

Greta bowed her head. She gave Nathaniel another reassuring squeeze on the shoulders before returning to help. Nathan fell to his knees, finally alone. He trembled all over, silent sobs escaping him. He closed his eyes, settling the emotion. Slowly, he stood and entered the thicket once more.

The unfaithful woman found that she had gotten herself lost. The sky was black, adding to the difficulty of traveling. Her blonde hair continuously got tangled in the branches causing fear into the already paranoid woman.

"Let me go!" she screamed ripping her hair free of the wooded grasp.

The woman stumbled over a fallen tree. She cried out, lunging away. The woman raced directly into a tree and fell back.

The stiff beast spat a sticky warm liquid onto her face. It smelt heavily of rust and began to run down her face and neck. The woman wiped it away and looked down at her hand. The black tar dripped into her palm as she inspected it.

"What a delicious smell," a deep and unfamiliar voice cooed.

The woman shrieked jumping to her feet. She whirled around searching for the owner of the voice. She was alone. The woman took off once more.

The frail body shot through the forest at a dead sprint, lost and scared. Someone or something was following her. The woman stumbled into a clearing and froze. She laughed unsteadily with relief in her undertone. The moon was full and gave off plenty of light.

"Thank God..." she whispered, falling to her knees.

The woman smiled and bowed her head, in religious habit. She realized, she was cold and began rubbing her arms. The moon was bright and the woman saw she was smearing a dark red substance up her arms. Self consciously she ran her hand over her forehead.

Wincing in pain, it became evident, she was cut and bleeding. Her pallor was giving her a near death-sickly appearance. Large globs of blood continued down her face, she wiped at them quickly.

A twig snapped and the woman froze. Fear returned to her. Trembling, she turned to examine the alien surroundings. Still, she was alone. She could hear clicking noises and realized her teeth were chattering.

"Oh what a pretty girl," the wind mused.

The woman whimpered, clutching the wool skirt. An unclad man materialized before her. The woman bawled out, throwing herself away from him. She let out a strangled wail, a sound no human had ever created, retching mid scream.

"You fear me?" the man laughed.

He was thoughtful for a moment before stepping closer. The woman screamed, tearing a hole in her skirt. Her body convulsed with the rigid trembling.

"P-please!" she sobbed, "I have a b-baby!"

Her words were unsteady and unclear. The vampire grinned and took another step in the woman's direction. His face contorted with fangs. His jaw jutted out and he smiled showing off his long incisors. The woman found her head growing light the closer the demon approached. Her lungs contracted and her breathing became shallow.

The man dropped down before the woman, laughing. She took in a gasp, with wide mortified eyes. Her body went stiff and she froze, staring wide eyed at the beast. He quickly closed the distance between their faces. A long sticky tongue ran up the woman's face. She released the in-taken gasp and fell heavily in the vampire's arms. He did not feel the dead weight.

The malicious fiend opened his mouth wide and rushed to satiate his undying thirst. Inches from the woman's pulsing neck, a boulder threw itself into the vampire and him into a tree. The wood bowed back and splintered, as the demon stood. Angrily, his fiery red eyes flashed open. The vampire laughed out, suddenly.

"What's this?!" he bellowed.

"She has a child!" the defiant black hissed.

The vampire stepped back into the clearing. He stretched himself, pulling his arms back, stretching after the heavy blow. Grinning, the man rolled the joints forward, popping them into place. The shadow did not budge.

"Child or no child. I'm hungry and she was bleeding. It smelled good," the vampire said matter-of-factly.

"Not this one!" the mist growled.

"Tyreth!" the vampire snarled, "I will feed, and you cannot keep me from my meals!"

Suddenly, Tyreth appeared, fully clothed. The vampiric man snorted in anger. He clenched his two large fists. Tyreth stood his ground, readying for the upcoming fight.

The man charged forward, baring his large white fangs. Tyreth opened his arms, catching the large monster. The angered man sank his teeth deep into Tyreth's shoulder. They fell to the earth with a hard thud. Tyreth wrenched free of the gnawing grasp. He punched the older and larger vampire in the jaw, knocking the molars loose.

"Runt!" the man snarled throwing himself into the boy.

Tyreth braced against the beast. He scowled, the red in his eyes bleeding into the blue. Large fangs shot down from the snarling mouth. Tyreth shook with anger, pushing against the vampire fiend with all of his strength and focus.

The larger vampire laughed, his fangs shrinking away. He shoved the boy down and stepped onto his chest. Tyreth glared up at the man, tears beginning to fill in his helpless eyes.

"You shouldn't even try, Tyreth, You'll always fail."

The man turned toward the forest behind him. He let out one laugh before crippling into a small bat. The furry being took flight, escaping Tyreth.

The boy stood and rushed to the woman's aid. She was unscathed by the vampire. Tyreth let out a sigh of relief. The tremors in his body subsided. His crimson eyes shut and his jaw relaxed. The fangs vanished once more giving the boy a more human appearance. Tyreth opened his eyes, they had cooled with his temper. (That sentence seems off. )

"You'll be okay..." the boy said caressing the woman's cheek.

"Fiend!" the sound of hooves drew to a stop.

Tyreth froze. He hadn't heard the man approaching with all of the excitement. His brethren had blinded him to the danger. The boy forced himself to stand. He turned, his body stiff and rigid.

"In the name of my Lord and Father, I commend you to step away from the villager!" the man shouted.

Tyreth took a step back. A low rumbling began in the pit of his throat and rose up into a deep growl. His eyes were red and the fangs returned. The man leapt from his horse and charged forward. Tyreth jumped back hissing wildly.

"Don't!" he spat.

"Your kind must be demolished, so these acts do not occur!" said the man jabbing a finger in the woman's direction.

"That wasn't me," Tyreth snarled.

"Death to you!" The man screamed, "My wife and daughter were taken from me! I will not stop until all of you die!"

Tyreth snapped at the man before wheeling around and sprinting away. He dashed through the forest easily evading the trees. Tears threatened to escape his lashes as he ran. The human would not be capable of following the boy, but he continued to run anyways.

A large tree branch smashed the young vampire in the face. It shattered and Tyreth fell back. The naked man leapt upon the boy, snarling furiously.

"See what happens when you save the humans?!" the vampire growled, "That wouldn't have happened!"

"I'm not going to let you gorge on just anyone, when you know I'm around!" Tyreth snapped, shoving the man off.

"Where are my clothes, brat? I told you to hold them for me."

"I left them... it's difficult to carry things in mist form..."

"Hey, I'm sorry, okay?" the man grinned.

"You're a bad liar."

"You got away, didn't you?"

Tyreth glared at this sect member. He stood, staring up at the bright moon. The man shifted into his bat form once more and flew away. Tyreth turned toward him and nodded. The bat spoke to him, asking for the boy to wait for it to return. Once more, Tyreth nodded.

He leaned up against a tree and closed his eyes. Amilia came to his mind, almost instantly, and he found himself smiling. The vampire returned, clothed this time. He grabbed Tyreth, surprising the boy.

"We must flee! The ranger pursues!"

Old man, Nathaniel Graves, woke early the following dawn. He pulled himself off of the floor and entered the kitchen. Greta turned to him and smiled. She pushed a plate of food towards him, before returning to the housework.

"I would appreciate it," Nathan said after clearing his throat, "if you would future refrain from drugging my tea."

Greta scowled pushing a handful of curly red hair back. She wiped away the grub from her hands and smiled a faint angrily smile.

"How else are we to get you to sleep?" the woman grumbled.

"I did not mean to offend you," Nathan amended, "I fear rest... knowing my Amilia is still to be found."

Greta's face relaxed and a distant sorrowful look replaced the angry flash. She nodded, knowledgeable to Nathan's remorse, before turning, again, to her work. Nathaniel took a forkful of tasteless eggs and swallowed it. He took another, before pushing the plate away.

"Looks like you ate a bit more," Greta diagnosed snatching up the plate, "I'm going to have to make less for you."

Nathan turned from the woman and stepped out of the kitchen. He exited the small house and stared at the rising sun. A woman stalked passed the man giving him a raw glare. Nathan let out a sigh before stepping away from the house.

"Graves!" a man's voice bellowed.

Nathaniel turned, as a crowd of pedestrians approached him angrily. The man was Pastor Threshborne. He trembled all over clutching tightly at a cross.

"Good fellow, what is wrong?" Nathan asked, feigning a cheerful demeanor.

"Our sister, Charlotte, was attacked in the night!" the pastor growled, "She claims it was a vampire! He cut her and lapped at her blood!"

Nathan fell back. A cold sweat began on the back of his neck. The pastor's lip quivered. He took a step closer to Nathan.

"She was covered in blood! A ranger brought her into town late last night. He confirmed her story," the man said.

"How did the fiend find the strength to stop drinking?" Nathan wondered to himself.

"The search stops!" the pastor snapped, "No more! It has been far too long! Your daughter is lost! Stop being selfish and risking the lives of our village women!"

Nathaniel bowed his head and turned away. He took in a deep settling breath, closing his eyes. The pastor and his disciples remained firmly planted where they stood. Nathan thought back 29 years to his youth. He had single handedly sealed Dracula from the world. Somehow, the monster had once more been reborn! Anger replaced the feelings of sorrow. They man's eyes flashed open. He had made his decision. Perhaps, he was not strong with youth, but he was not to be giving up either.

"I understand," he said placidly, returning to look at the pastor, "It is my burden... I will bear once more." (Or is it bare?)

The pastor's face was awe stricken. He nodded in approval of the decision. The group dispersed to rejoice in the news. Pastor Threshborne placed a heavy hand on Nathan's shoulder and smiled bravely.

"Good luck my son," he said.

"You're a coward," Nathan hissed before shaking the man's hand from his shoulder, "Had it been Amy, you would have called for a multitude to search... saying if they did not, they would surely be damned to hell. You cower before him and beg that someone else take a stand. I am not blind, you fool. I see how crooked your church is. You are corrupt and by leading the village, have sent it to its ruin!"

The man wheeled away and returned to Greta's home. She was feeding her younglings and nursing her father. Nathan cursed himself, quietly, for having monopolized her time from them. The old man would soon be dead, yet out Greta was, in search for Grave's daughter.

The man grabbed his cloak and dagger. He glanced once more at the friends he had made before quickly exiting. Greta followed him out. She seemed upset.

"Greta..."

"Lord Graves, what is troubling you?" she asked.

"I can never show my gratitude and appreciation for what you've done..." Nathan began.

"Please, you do not need to be thanking me."

"I am going home, Greta," Nathan motioned toward the rural mansion on the hill top, "I may return, probably not though. My daughter needs me, and I am aware of her whereabouts now. She with my enemy... dead or alive, I will go to her. Please, bring to me my steed."

Greta nodded before turning to the house. She called within and her eldest son appeared. He caught sight of Nathan and frowned. His father had died a few years before and he had looked to Nathaniel as a figure. Silently, he went and retrieved the horse. It had been well tended to and appeared in marvelous condition.

"Much gratitude to you and yours," Nathan said pulling himself onto the horse's back.

"Be careful," Greta said, emotion cracking her voice.

"As long as you keep an eye on the village," Nathan teased, "Fiends are about."

Greta nodded and Nathaniel turned his horse towards the village gates. With amazing speed, the docile beast shot through them and into the dark forest. The boy at Greta's side burst into tears and Greta sighed, bringing him close to her. She whispered into his dark hair, "Hush now... We'll be alright."


	8. Chapter VIII:

Fang

Chapter 8:

The audience hall was crowded with the furry wriggling bodies. Dracula gathered the sect together to announce his departure. Tyreth was among his brethren, in his favorite spectral formation. Dracula silenced the multitude.

"I believe it is time… I travel to my tomb in Transylvania. For me, it would be safer there… I will return, though, after the Worshippers of chaos defeat the Vampire Killers Alliance."

"An allegiance in the priest hood?!" Ahren scoffed, "Those fools can only dream of destroying use!"

"How did you come by this news, milord?" Amon asked.

Dracula grinned, an evil fang baring form that caused Tyreth convulsive trembles, as he turned. The vampire brute, a half beast given werewolf strength, stepped forward pulling a limp man robed in lavender garbs up. He laughed out, a terrible sound.

"Evan seemed to enjoy searching this priest," Dracula mused.

"His blood is very sweet!" the giant laughed

Dracula waved him away. He folded his arms as if explaining the question. Tyreth bowed his head, hating, once more, what he was. Tears would have run down his face, had he not been only a shadow. For this, he was quite thankful.

"Milord," Amon began again, "You cannot leave us. Putting our faith in human-kind is disastrous! We must fight them all! I say it is time for a purging!"

"No!" Tyreth hissed, drawing attention to the shadow.

Dracula scowled in distaste. He lifted a hand, beckoning to the boy. Tyreth did not budge. After the prolonging moment of silence shifted into hushed gossip, Tyreth sighed. Dracula growled, silencing the murmurs.

"Tyreth, if you will not state your opinion more clearly, then please, show some prudence and hold your tongue!" Dracula said finally, "Amon, a purging would destroy our food supply. It would be a poor decision and one I will not make without consulting with the leaders of other covens."

Amon bowed her head and nodded. She curled her wings over her head to hide the shame she felt. Ahren chuckled obnoxiously at her, only to receive a warning nip from an older vampire. The young brute silenced himself and returned his attention to Dracula.

Tyreth sank to the floor wishing to be with Amilia. He was anxious and worried for her safety. Dracula watched the shadow carefully. They met eyes, Dracula locking the youngest vampire in his gaze.

"Milord," a vampire called the man's attention away, "Who will watch over the sect in your absence?"

Tyreth froze with the question. The thought had not crossed his mind… and he was immediately bothered by it. Dracula's face contorted in disgust. He raised a hand and waved it as if to dissipate a fog… or rather a shadow. The spectral form solidified and Tyreth stood, head bowed.

"My son will, of course," Dracula sneered, forcing himself to smile, "Tyreth."

The boy stiffened. A presence drew his attention to the back of the room. He turned, slowly, horror falling upon his face. Amilia stood in the doorway, just as stricken with terror as he. A sickening knot twisted in the boy's stomach, as he reached for the girl. Amilia whirled away and dashed down the hall, out of sight.

The multitude before Tyreth began snickering. Fury replaced the sick. The boy turned to face Dracula, his father. His lip quivered and his eyes flashed red. Dracula did not silence the sect's mocking laughter; however found no enjoyment in it either. He did not smile, or laugh.

"You knew she was there!" Tyreth accused.

"You cannot deny your blood, my son. She would have learned of your origin eventually," Dracula spoke only within the confines of Tyreth's mind.

Tyreth let out a strangled growl. It was weak but Dracula turned away. His son rushed out of the room, very near tears. The large doors fell shut and the sect fell silent. Dracula was no longer amused. He snarled and returned his gaze on the sect.

"You will obey Tyreth with the same respect I require!"

Amilia slipped on the slimy floor. She fell to her knees and glanced up at the long hall before her. Human men were chained to the walls; some had already begun the decaying process preceding death. Many were missing limbs and one or two of them were dead. Amilia shuddered, pulling herself up.

The girl continued on, at a remotely slow pace now. She carefully eluded the bodies as they reached for her. The hair on the back of her neck stuck out as jolting trembles were sent down her spine.

One man grabbed the girl's ankle. A shrill scream filled the dungeon air, as Amilia flew to the mudded Earth once more. The prisoner crawled toward her, moaning in sheer agony. The girl shrieked, pulling herself away. She lunged forward, stumbling into the face of a skeleton.

Crying out once more, Amilia sank to her knees. Someone grabbed the girl by the shoulder. She was yanked up to her feet and hugged tightly. Amilia sobbed into the familiar robe. Hugh stroked her tangled hair, calming the girl.

"Amilia?" the man sighed, "What are you doing in a place such as this?"

"I could ask the same of you!" Amilia barked, her tears waning away, "You're an old man, Uncle Baldwin!"

"I am sure neither of us decided to be here…"the man stated weakly.

Amilia saw large wounds covering the man's entire body. He had gashes on his neck and face. His arm was covered in bites and bruises. There was a large cut running down his temple and across his chin. Tearing had been done to his left ear. Amilia bit her bottom lip as it trembled.

"Amilia?"

"What have they done to you?!" the girl cried out.

"Oh Amilia, don't worry about me. Look to your own heath and future. I have lived a long and prosperous life."

"Quiet fool!" the girl snapped, "You're not dead yet, nor are you dying!"

Hugh smiled. He didn't appear quite as rough with the curve in his lips. The smile was returned in a weak manner from Amilia. She closed her eyes, and recalled the image of a healthy Hugh. It was 

hazy. Hugh glanced down the corridor at a silhouette and frowned. Amilia opened her eyes and followed the man's gaze. She let out a whimper and pushed herself behind the priest.

The shadow shifted its weight and took a hesitant step forward. Hugh stepped before Amilia and tensed. The form shook its head and sighed reaching a longing hand out. Amilia cringed away as it spoke her name. Hugh pulled a loose rock from the decroding wall and threw it at the shadow. It dodged the large projectile with ease.

"Begone, fiend! There is nothing for you, here!" Hugh snarled.

"Please, just let me talk to you," Tyreth begged, ignoring the man.

"What do you want?!" Amilia snapped.

"To talk, alone preferably."

Amilia stiffened in response.

"You do not have to comply… I only ask."

"Did you not hear my order, Beast?!" Hugh growled, "Leave us at once!"

Tyreth hissed, "She is not a prisoner here! And, therefore, does not belong in the dungeon!"

"Do you wish to explain yourself to me?" Amilia asked.

"Yes," Tyreth sighed, "If you let me."

"Alone?"

"Preferably, but that is not a demand."

"May I make a request?"

Tyreth stepped into the dim light. His face was drawn, giving him and older appearance. The boy nodded once and pushed his hair back. Hugh relaxed upon the sight of the benevolent vampire. Amilia's heart softened as well. She felt bad for him.

"I want Monsieur Baldwin to have the same will as I."

Tyreth's eyes narrowed. He turned to his slayer and knew if he were to free the man he would be slaughtered. He also knew his time with Amilia depended on the answer to the questions. A low guttural grunt escaped him, startling the humans.

"I cannot offer my father's captives freedom," Amilia's face fell and Tyreth quickly amended his statement, "I can, however, protect him."

"How?" Amilia asked.

"He can stay with you, as you like, in my quarters," Tyreth said, "As I will be moving to my father's."

Amilia agreed eagerly. Tyreth turned away, waving the two in his direction. They followed, as the vampire lead them back to their chamber. Hugh was ushered into the semi-comfortable room. He went immediately to the window for rest. Amilia shut the door softly before turning to Tyreth.

"Well…?"

Tyreth frowned. He beckoned Amilia toward Dracula's chamber yet could not seduce her into entering. They stood in the door way tensely. The young man trembled slightly, closing his bright eyes. Amilia softened her disposition, adding ease to the air. Tyreth began.

"Amilia, Dracula is… indeed my father, and your enemy. I am not your enemy though, if you will have it. I refrained from indulging you this information, because, as heir to the throne, I was not entirely sure how you would react. I am quite attracted to you and ask for you friendship. Please, forgive my hesitation and behavior… you frighten me though."

Amilia laughed out at this confession. She blinked taken aback by the ejaculation. Tyreth had not opened his eyes. He was remotely calmer, but did not move. Had Amilia been unaware of existence he could have been mistaken for a beautiful and dark statue.

"You fear me?" Amilia asked speculatively.

"Yes."

"Why?"

Tyreth opened his eyes. They had traces of worry in them, as well as a hint of confusion and other emotions. Amilia bowed her head, hiding her eyes from the beautiful, unreal features. Tyreth flexed his jaw, before speaking.

"I'm unsure. I am worried you will abuse me."

"Tyreth," Amilia mused, "I should be with Hugh…"

The girl turned abruptly and slid down the hall. She entered Tyreth's chamber and closed the door. Tyreth let out a disappointed sigh as the click of the lock rang in his mind. He knew he would be an unwelcome quest in the chamber. He turned to Dracula's room and entered.

Dracula arranged for his departure. He requested for a few trust worthy cult members to escort him on the journey. They would later be used as a meal, if necessary. Dracula informed Tyreth that he would send for Amilia when it was time, until then, she was to remain in Austria. With all business being tended to, the Lord of Darkness left in a dark horse drawn carriage.

Tyreth felt was immediately overwhelmed. Batpups, older than him by a few years, yet not as intelligent or mature, had gotten themselves caught feasting at a wealthy man's ball. Annette, a charming girl older than Tyreth by a year, had been killed in the macabre. The vampires decided to hunt in the daytime hour, leaving Tyreth stranded, helplessly in the castle. The respect for him was an obvious low. Ska had no consoling advice to give.

"They only travel by light so you cannot follow," the old man stated.

"I know that! How can I solve it?!" Tyreth snarled, bitterly.

"You know how, Tyreth," Ska sneered.

The boy grimaced, pardoning himself from the clock tower. He exited into the large machine room, to be confronted by Evan. The younger vampire tensed. He snarled, baring his teeth. Evan laughed in response before turning away. His hands were reddened with the human liquid; Tyreth knew this from the scent rather than the stomach tying sight.

"Clean yourself up," Tyreth commanded, rushing from the machine room.

The sick passed and Tyreth continued on toward his newly acclaimed chamber. Ahren was standing sheepishly at Tyreth's old bedroom door. He turned nervously towards his younger brethren. Tyreth hissed an angry warning. Ahren snickered.

"What are you doing, Ahren?" Tyreth growled, demanding an answer.

"I was just curious… She's very pretty, you know," Ahren replied coolly.

"Begone!" Tyreth snapped, "You are to stay away from this corridor!"

Ahren shrank away in obedience. He liked to cause heated arguments for Tyreth, but he was not a belligerent being. Dracula had instilled great fear into him and he would not dare disobey the Master's departing order. Tyreth was to be as respected as the great lord himself.

Tyreth let out a relieved sigh and slumped against the wall. Suddenly, the door was thrown open and Amilia dashed out. She struck Tyreth with a candle stick, crying out. Angrily, the man snatched the weapon away, and glared at Amilia. She fell back, realizing who she had attacked.

"Someone else was out here for a long time," Amilia whispered, quite ashamed, "He was large."

"So you thought a candle stick would protect you?!" Tyreth scoffed, "This is a minor irritant. –I sent the man away."

The young man smiled weakly at the girl as he turned and walked passed her. She blushed, recalling the image of his crooked grin. Her face flushed up and she quickly rushed into the room. Tyreth opened his door and glanced back, longingly at his former room… at Amilia. He shut the door and went instantly to the desk. There were many official business affairs and letters scattered about. Angrily, the man shoved them off onto the floor. He buried his face in his arms and wept silently at the gift never to be bestowed upon him.

Amilia peeked out at Tyreth as he slid into his room. She calmed her heart, closing the door. Hugh was awaiting her approach. The girl quickly went to his side. She forced a brave smile.

"Are you ready?" Amilia asked.

Monsieur Baldwin nodded, once. He used the petite girl as a crutch. They made their way to the door cautiously. Amilia opened it, slowly and crept out. The corridor was desolate and opportune.

"Come," the girl hushed.

Hugh limped to the girl's side and once more supported himself against her. Amilia lead the man down the hall. She glanced down the next corridor. It, too, was empty. Amilia smiled, pulling on the quickly aging man. A werewolf sat up and watched as the two passed it, slowly. It growled, the fur on its neck shot up and its red eyes blazed with hunger. Amilia gulped down her initial fear and continued on, aiding the man at her side. The doors to the Audience Hall loomed ahead; Amilia quickly looked away from them and took a sharp right. The small corridor, she lead Hugh through, was barely large enough for the two to be walking side by side. The young woman turned her body slightly to make an accommodation for this factor.

Once more, Amilia pulled away from the man she held and rushed on down the hall. She crept toward the corner and peeked around it. Ska, the nearly blind half breed, was walking towards her. She clasped her hands over her mouth to keep from crying out in surprise. Quickly, the young woman settled her nerves. Ska passed her and froze. She placed an unsteady hand over her racing heart. The girl was sure the loathsome man could hear it palpitate.

"Filthy rats!" the fiend mumbled continuing away.

Amilia realized she was standing in a nest of furry varmints. Panic swept over her as she scurried away. Quickly, the girl returned to Hugh and escorted him down the hall Ska had come from. The girl pulled the man from corridor to corridor in search for the front door. Hugh panted from the exertion he was forced to give. He was quite weak and fatigued. The leg which had been favored was very infected from a bite and Amilia had no medical experience in which she could procure any sort of help. A gasp escaped her, suddenly.

Tyreth stood against the only exit, lounging idly against the doorframe. He turned and shot the refugees a blood red glare. Amilia stepped before Hugh and met the vampire's cold look. He pushed himself free of the door and approached the young woman. Amilia braced herself fearfully.

"I am not deaf, Amilia," Tyreth spat, "I knew what you were doing…"

"Let us go, you yourself said I was not a prisoner here. Allow us to leave," Amilia demanded.

Tyreth circled around her and stopped on the opposite side, rage filling his eyes. Amilia could feel herself trembling, but she did not give in. Tyreth's behavior was very unlike him, and she knew it.

"I did say that, didn't I?" Tyreth mused, his eyes locking the young woman in a steal grasp, "If you leave during daylight… you lose my protection."

"I do not need the protection from my enemy!" Amilia snapped.

"Amilia, I beg of you. Return to your quarters… take the priest with you… and lock the door. You'll be safe there. I cannot protect you when the sun is up!"

Amilia snatched a wooded peg from beneath her dress and thrust it towards Tyreth. The man let out an exclamation and hurdled himself into the wall. Amilia returned to Hugh, who was waning away with the infection and illness. The young woman kept her eyes on the vampire as she escorted Priest Baldwin toward the door.

Tyreth lunged forward and grabbed for Nathan Grave's heir. Amilia dropped Hugh in shock as her host whirled her around to face him. The sickly man sank to his feet weakly. The infection was aging him quickly and he was sure death was near. Hugh dropped his head no longer able to support its weight.

Amilia yanked away from Tyreth to no avail. He held her in a shackled grasp. The young man's face was drawn. Amilia was forced to drop the homemade stake as Tyreth restrained her. Amilia glared deeply into Tyreth's purple eyes. His expression softened as the flames cooled into crystalice ice once more. Tyreth opened his mouth to speak, but words did not form. Amilia ceased her struggles and relaxed. Her temper was still spiteful and angry as rage colored her face.

"Unhand me," the young woman hissed.

"Amilia… please," Tyreth began, loosening his steel grip, "I beg… you will not be safe out there…"

"And am I safe in here?!"

Tyreth released Amilia and backed away. She took up the stake and rushed instantly to Hugh, who needed her. The adolescent pulled the man to his feet and opened the great doors. She shoved through and stood motionless as the sun beat down on her. Slowly the young woman turned to look once more at Tyreth.

The vampire stood safely out of the rays, squinting, as they burned his eyes. He cocked a smile at Amilia and the young woman grinned in return. Tyreth shifted his weight and pointed toward the stake saying, "You would never have used it."

"Not against you," Amilia agreed, "But I think I would have…"

Tyreth frowned and nodded. He looked at the girl through his bangs; the sun's reflection was very strong as it bounced into his pupils off of her fair skin. Amilia glanced down, avoiding the pitiful look. She blushed greatly.

"Why did you change your mind?" Tyreth asked.

Amilia returned her eyes to his and attempted a feeble smile, "I guess the same reason you are looking after the castle as your… father asked. A sense of responsibility matured you. We're growing up."

Amilia rested against a tree one mile from Vincent's town. Hugh was barely conscious and bore down most of his weight on her. The young woman closed her eyes allowing the weight of her fatigue to conquer her. Sleep overwhelmed the girl in a great unconscious heap.

Hugh rested beside the young woman. He was awake and stared blankly at the path they had trodden. In his weak state the man began hallucinations. The ill man waved at the estranged form before him.

"Go 'way…" he mumbled with a heavy slur.

The tree did not budge. In fact, it remained right where it was. Hugh, in his agitated state, shook Amilia waking her instantly. She was unaware of her surroundings due to the grogginess. Amilia refocused her sight by rubbing her eyes. Hugh was delirious with panic as he groped at her arm and tugged on it wildly.

"Uncle Baldwin?" Amilia prodded.

"Amilia! That man over there keeps saying our names!" Hugh coughed, pointing to the large oak.

Amilia glanced around frowning. She realized what the issue was and stood, taking the man by both hands. Hugh was pulled to his feet by the girl. She wrapped one of his arms around her neck and the other she held onto tightly. Amilia hugged the man closely to her.

"Uncle…" Amilia sighed, "there is no one there."

Hugh glared at the tree through his clouded and dizzy vision. Amilia pulled the man on through the forest. The path was windy and clearly less taken by travelers. A tree had fallen in the middle at one point and Amilia had to help Hugh over it. They were quite exhausted but Amilia pushed on, dragging the man with her.

The town came into view. The gates were open to Amilia's great satisfaction. With renewed vigor, the woman pulled Hugh at an even greater pace. Amilia rushed within the town's confines and called out gleefully. Town's people came immediately to her aid. Hugh was carried away and Amilia followed, weeping happily. Once within the doctor's house, Amilia silenced herself and took once more to looking after Hugh in his newly unconscious state.

"He will be perfectly fine," the doctor assured the young woman, "Although I will need to treat his leg immediately. Stay here as I go out for supplies. There are a few herbs I need and haven't got."

Amilia agreed and the man left with haste. Having had the burden lifted from her shoulders, the girl closed her eyes once more for a rest. The door opened, startling young Amilia from her dozing. A beautiful dark haired woman had entered and stood before Amilia. She had on the doctor's lab coat and nothing more. Amilia was quite surprised.

"Amilia…" the woman whispered, "Dearest Amilia… how pretty you truly are… it's a shame Dracula intends you only for himself. Your smell is greatly enticing."

"You are Amon," Amilia gasped.

The woman only nodded. Shock stricken and horrified, Amilia lunged away. Amon stood directly in the sunlight, yet she did not melt away. Amilia grabbed the nearest tool and shoved it into the beautiful woman's breast. Amon laughed out.

"A scalpel?" Amon cackled, "Amilia, don't look at me in such a way…"

"The sun!-But how?!"

Amon yanked the scalpel from her chest and dropped into onto the tray. Her blood was already coagulated. Amilia stared at the scalpel in horror. Amon grabbed the girl in mocking laughter.

"Tyreth didn't tell you?" Amon snickered, "I suppose he didn't think about it. Amilia, that is a myth. The sun does nothing but nulls our powers."

"No!" Amilia shrieked, "Tyreth…-"

"He doesn't feed on human blood; therefore he cannot traverse into the light. It makes him weak to have the abstinence he has. If he took just one drink… He could go months basking in the brilliant rays," the woman stood thoughtful for a moment before grinning, "I suppose I could be a little bad. Just one small taste."

The vampire lunged forward sinking her fangs into Amilia's neck. Amilia cried out, struggling to free herself. The vampiric woman wrenched away shrieking in pain. She fell away from the dumfounded girl and crippled to the ground retching.

'Then you're safe,' Tyreth had said, '… they'd have to remove the necklace first.'

Amilia realized she was clutching the small cross in her dainty hand. Amon had not looked twice before striking, just as Tyreth had said. Amilia smiled weakly, reaching a hand up to brush the trickle of blood away. The vampire continued heaving. She grabbed her stomach and clawed at her throat. Suddenly, she turned to face Amilia.

The beautiful face that had been, was no more. The acidic blood crippled the full red lips and caved in the pointed pixy nose. Amon was only a demonic wretch, groaning in pain. Her arms were outstretched toward Amilia in a pleading.

"Please," Amon rasped, "Make it stop…-burns!"

Amilia turned away, ignoring the pitiful begging. She thought of Tyreth and his promise of safety. Understanding overcame the girl as questions rose in parallel. The vampire coven would still be searching for her and mortals everywhere would not be able to stop them. The young woman would be forced to return to safety… to her protector, Tyreth.


End file.
